


No Sunshine When She's Gone

by asingerofsongs, MayGlenn



Series: Stars and Skies [12]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: 'Because Boys' (Says Jess Pava), And Things Beyond Their Control Also Go Awry, Badass Fighter Pilot Poe, Badass Finn, Battlefield Flirting, Canon-Typical Violence, Communication, Don't Say the G-Word to Poe, Dr Kalonia Is A Saint, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Constipation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Finn and Poe Have Their First Fight, Finn is not an infant, Forgiveness, Healthy Relationships, Hurt!Finn, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Passive-Aggressive Finn, Protective Poe Dameron, Someone Needs To Tell Poe That, The Boys Are A Disaster Without Rey, Ultra-Bro Jessika Pava, Verbal Disagreement Almost Becomes Physical, here comes the General
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-12 13:23:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7106632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asingerofsongs/pseuds/asingerofsongs, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayGlenn/pseuds/MayGlenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I don't need help,”  Finn told the little droid when they were alone, while Finn sat and cleaned an endless pile of practice weapons. “Took care of myself for years..." </p><p>BB-8 whistled at him. </p><p>"No, little guy, I'm not mad at you. I'm not mad at Poe, either. Just..." He couldn't explain that he wasn't mad but he was annoyed, even though he also understood Poe's concern, and he both wanted it and did not want it at all. "Anyway, it's fine." </p><p>It was not fine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Picks up directly from [Misdemeanor Trouble](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6928369):  
>  _As Rey turned to walk up into the ship, Poe slid his arm around Finn, waving with his free hand until the ramp was up and the ground crew started waving them away. He stepped them back, watching the Falcon roar to life (after a few tries—good, it wasn't just him, then) and ease out of the hangar. They watched until the speck in the sky was gone._

Poe sighed. "I love you," he whispered, turning to press a kiss to Finn's temple.

"I love you too," Finn said, leaning against Poe and closing his eyes so most of his awareness was of Poe, and nothing else. He'd let himself become overwhelmed earlier, and was still feeling the effects of it, but this helped. "I think the General put us both on doubles today," he mumbled into Poe's shoulder.

"Yeah," Poe said. "And I'm in the sky tomorrow." He turned to face Finn, giving him a wistful, but hopeful look. "Hey. She does this because she _loves_ us. I know that sounds crazy but it's true. We just gotta buck up and take the consequences, she feels better, we get a bunch of good work done for the Resistance, and it goes back to normal and by then Rey will be back." He smiled. "Hell, we'll be so busy we won't have time to notice she's gone." He kissed Finn.

Finn managed a smile, he was pretty sure, for Poe, and nodded. Of course, Poe knew Leia much better than he did, and it was true that Leia had made a point of telling him he didn't need to worry that punishment would at some point take the same form as it had in the First Order...but she'd been _angry_. Finn wasn't sure how to deal with someone being angry at him when he actually cared—really cared, and not because he was afraid of them. What if he screwed up _again_?

"See you after dinner?" he asked Poe, interrupting his own train of thought.  It was unlikely they'd be eating dinner together, since they'd be eating in the short space of time between their double shifts.

Finn still looked vaguely haunted, so Poe grabbed his face and kissed him. "You're okay, buddy," he whispered, sliding in close to him, and looking slightly nervous, touching Finn as if to remind one of them he was real. "Yeah, I'll see you after dinner. I've got my com, you page me any time, if you're feeling like—" But he didn't even want to say ‘triggered’ or ‘panic attack.’ Poe decided something suddenly. "Hey—BB-8," Poe called, looking around him. "You stay with Finn today, okay, buddy?" No sense in both of them being alone, and certainly not Finn, since he looked on the verge of not being okay.

While Finn could have objected to being treated somewhat like an adolescent, he didn't necessarily _mind_ BB-8's company. And it was true that if he did start losing track of where he was, BB-8 could snap him out of it faster than anyone.

He let the matter go, but almost immediately wished he hadn’t.

"I don't _need_ help,”  he told the little droid when they were alone, while Finn sat and cleaned an endless pile of practice weapons. “Or consideration. Took care of myself for years..." BB-8 whistled at him, bumping his shin. "No, little guy, I'm not mad at you. I'm not mad at Poe, either. Just..." He couldn't explain that he wasn't mad but he was _annoyed_ , even though he also understood Poe's concern, and he both wanted it and did not want it at all. "Anyway, it's fine," he told them, and received a borderline rude honk in return. "Now _you're_ sassing me, too?" he asked, and then laughed as BB-8 wobbled like they did when they were being sassy about something with Poe.

…

In his office, Poe actually laughed when he saw the stack of paperwork: a laugh somewhere between _oh boy do I feel sorry for the son of a bitch who has to deal with all that_ and trying not to cry. It was as tall as BB-8. And actual on-synth-paper paperwork because the Resistance couldn’t possibly encrypt files, no. We have to go analog and dress like guerrilla rebel anarcho-socialists because...oh, wait, that’s kind of what we are.

Some days, though not often, Poe missed the Republican Starship Force. That was the flyboy life: an actual salary, recognition, the ability to requisition actual supplies and waste fuel and be near civilization…

Then it passed and he sighed and got to work. He had to hum to himself since he had no BB-8, and he was pretty sadly glancing at his comlink every few minutes, but he didn't let himself get up until the stack was half done. He took a fifteen minute break to pee, grabbed some rations, and went over the duty rosters. His name was locked in for the week, putting him in the air as often as was safely possible (probably part of her plan to not have to look at him for a week, which was the only part of this that stung, even if he deserved it), though Poe could still rearrange the rest of the schedule so he was doing patrols with Snap so Iolo and Karé got to sleep in together and making sure Jess was off when Finn might have some downtime.

The rest of the paperwork took him until standard midnight, but it was done, damn it, and he only had to be up at 0500 tomorrow for patrol. Of course, when he got back to their room, Finn was in bed but the light was still on, like he had been trying to wait up but had fallen asleep. Poe didn't bother undressing fully, just toed off his boots and slid into bed to put his arms around Finn, kissing him softly and asking BB-8 to get the lights.

For the next few days this was on repeat: Poe barely saw Finn when he was conscious, as he got back to the room after him and left earlier than him (and after the third night, Poe thought, either Leia was going easy on Finn, or the First Order taught him to maximize efficiency in a way the good guys hadn't figured out yet and either way he was jealous).

But today as usual he was up before dawn and leaving a note for Finn on his datapad, using every little emoji in the database that was vaguely heart-related, because if he skipped breakfast or ate it in the air he had time to let Finn know he loved him.

Finn had been sleeping very lightly, and he felt Poe get out of bed and half heard him getting ready. When he was about to leave, Finn rolled over and opened his eyes, watching Poe type on the datapad. "You know, you could wake me up and tell me what you're writing," he said, voice scratchy from still being half-asleep. He sat up and held his arms out, very clearly asking for a hug before Poe left and he got up to start his own long, busy day.

"I hate waking you. You're so cute when you're sleeping." Poe checked the time, but, screw it, he thought, and crawled back into bed. He was _tired_ , and Finn's arms were _heaven_ , but he had skies to keep safe and cadets to train. He buried his face against Finn's neck and kissed him once before rolling over and holding the datapad up. "I'll read it to you," he said, his voice gruff:

"'Finn—

“‘Hope you have a good day. Miss you already. I looked over your schedule and I saw you have an hour free while I'm supposed to be training the new pilots with Jess and wondered if you'd like to come join us—or watch—at 1500 hours in G3. Yes, the gym with the mirrors. You'll see.'

“And I was just signing it:

“'Love you—and looking forward to masturbating to your picture while cruising around the dark side of the moon in a few hours—affectionately, passionately, lecherously, and eternally Yours, Poe.'"

Finn smiled as Poe read the letter to him and nuzzled his hip, which was where Finn had laid his head as soon as Poe climbed back into the bed. He knew it wouldn't last long, but at least for a minute he got to snuggle close to a conscious Poe. “’Snice.”

Poe grinned and kissed Finn. "Wow, I think I forgot how gorgeous you are when you're awake, too," he laughed. "Maybe I will wake you up in the future." But duty and BB-8 called, and he was sliding out of bed as he grabbed at another kiss.

"I'll see you later," Finn said as Poe slipped away, sitting up to give him one last kiss. Then he was gone and their room was quiet, and Finn frowned before getting out of bed and dressing in decent clothes. He had Officer Training first thing this morning, and today was a lecture day. If he was lucky, he'd make it through without falling asleep.

…

That morning, Connix was glad to see that Finn, as usual, arrived early to her briefings. She liked things neat and orderly, and, well, she had felt _bad_ for Finn, and Commander Dameron and Rey, for that matter, when the General had wiped the floor with them for going on that dangerous mission. She wanted to see them all get over this and through this and fine, which was why she was most helpful to Finn, and why she hadn't yet mentioned to the General exactly how many shifts Poe had been running on without a full rest period...

…

Nothing woke Poe up like flying—and caffeine pills, but hey. He'd actually gone and taken more shifts than the General had initially punished him with, because he was maybe a bit sorry and wanted to make it up to her. He _had_ felt like he was slacking, recently—not wasting time, exactly, because every minute spent with Finn and Rey was what made air worth breathing, but he loved the Resistance, too, and he might have been forgetting that a bit recently. His pilots—his General—everyone needed to be reminded how dedicated he was.

So he was up with a new recruit, today, Cosmos, and though young, she was sharp, and from Yavin, too, so they got on. He was showing her the ropes, taking her through a routine patrol, S-foils locked down, zipping over the planet surface and then taking it wider to hit the moons, sensors draining all their power (instead of shields) and their astromechs focused on processing the data.

"Okay, so, wait. You're dating the Trooper..." she said, smacking her chewing gum loudly over the com.

"That's Sergeant Finn, to you, airman," Poe laughed. "Yes, we're in a relationship."

"But he's dating the Jedi..."

"Rey's not technically a Jedi, yet, probably? I’m not sure how that works. Anyway, you can call her Rey. And we're both dating her. Look, I _know_ Yavin's a backward place, I grew up there, but you've _heard_ of polyamory, right?"

"Oh, yeah, I know. We call them threesomes."

"Well, yeah, for _sex_..." Poe gave an exasperated sigh. "Look, I don't have to explain my love life to a basic airman. If you want a promotion, you better stop asking questions."

"That's, like, the _opposite_ of what Captain Wexley said."

"Oh, Maker, don't ask _Snap_!"

They made it back to base intact, with enough time for Poe to grab a protein shake and com all his pilots as a reminder to meet him in G3.

…

Finn liked Connix—she was efficient, and taught him what he needed to know instead of assuming he knew nothing. When he became distracted by considering how some of the basic strategies he knew from the First Order might be used effectively by the Resistance, she listened instead of assuming that all strategies employed by the First Order were automatically bad strategies. The result was that they talked about how to provision an army comprised of many far-flung parts effectively and consistently for almost an hour.

His ability to become distracted by things like moving supplies and food almost made him late to whatever Poe and the rest of his pilots were doing for training in G3. He ran there, and was out of breath when he stumbled in the door. But he was grinning, because he'd hardly seen Poe at all lately, and now he got to spend a whole hour with him—even if it was in the company of all of the pilots.

Poe had gathered his pilots and lined them up in the gym by seniority and by squadrons. The older pilots knew what was happening, and most were excited while a few grumbled. "The reason we are gathered here is to replace our usual PT, normally run by Iolo. I appreciate you letting me borrow the squad, Captain Arana."

"I hate you so much, Poe."

Some laughter. "See, Iolo here hates dancing, but don't let him fool you. Dancing is good cardio that every pilot needs. It improves reflexes and flexibility. Group dancing keeps us aware of our squadron, as we should be at all times. And, last but not least, we have a reputation as flyboys and flygirls of tearing it up on the dance floor and combing lovers out of our hair for weeks, and this is a _surefire_ way to get that. Remember to be safe, use sheaths, and get your shots," he added, to a chorus of laughter. "Okay, so we just follow the holovids and your squadron leaders, oh, and these vids are courtesy of Major Kun—don't they just _complete_ each other? I think it's sweet. And there are mirrors, so if I see anyone slacking or not looking smoking hot I am putting you on report, got it?"

"Hey, Finn made it!" someone shouted.

Poe grinned, tearing his shirt off and throwing it into a corner. "Oh darn, I seem to have lost my shirt. Whoops! You want to join us or watch, Finn?"

"Uh...What exactly am I agreeing to if I say I want to join you?" Finn asked, leaning against the wall and smiling.

"Guess you'll just have to agree and find out!" Jess hollered at him from all the way across the room with Blue Squadron, before Poe could even get a word in otherwise. There was a small smattering of cheers at her statement, and Finn rolled his eyes, pushing away from the wall and going to join the group.

"Apparently the decision has been made for me," he said to Poe, and saw Jess high-five Iolo in the mirror.

"You just agreed to some physical training," Poe said with a shrug, hauling him into a kiss. "Just watch the screens, do what the little avatar does. Or watch me and Jess and Karé. Bastian’s good. And Snap's pretty nimble for his size," Poe began as the music started up and Snap wailed "My mom says I'm just big boned!"

Poe really did like dancing—not that formal stuff at balls and ceremonies, but actual, sweaty sexy dancing. This song was in a language he didn't speak—Bothese, maybe—but it was fast and fun, with lots of easily repeatable motions for the newbies. "Focus on your top half," Poe encouraged the cadets and airmen, voice loud over the sound of the music (and the laughing and occasional "Oh shit!" as people lost their rhythm). "Start with the arm movements, then work the hips into it, then the legs. Pilot needs full range of motion with arms and waist, remember!"

He glanced to the side during a slower part to find Finn catching on pretty well and staring intently at the screen. Damn, this wasn't how it was supposed to work at all, he thought. Finn was supposed to be watching _him_ dance.

 _What, so that they would be sexually frustrated for another week before they caught enough rack time together to actually do anything about it?_ he answered himself darkly, and sighed as he refocused, laughing at the antics Nien Nunb was performing.

Finn caught Poe glancing over at him, but very carefully ignored him, focusing instead on his own dancing. He was pretty sure he looked utterly ridiculous, though perhaps not as ridiculous as some of the pilots. As usual, they are taking training exactly as seriously as they had to—not very.

Okay, that's it, Poe thought, pulling out the big guns this time, with a dance he knew very well, and which no one else but Karé was any good at, and was sung in the indigenous language of Yavin which he could also _sing_ while dancing to lots of hip thrusts and fancy footwork. Yes, if this didn't get Finn, nothing would, he decided wickedly. His shouts of support to his dancing pilots grew fewer as the main event became Poe Dameron Showing Off.

Finn forgot himself, nearly causing a wreck as people retreated to avoid running him over. He'd never seen Poe quite like this, dancing and keeping up with the lyrics in a different language. When someone jostled him, Finn found himself close enough to reach out and snag Poe's hand. He pulled him in close and kissed him, to the collective surprise of everyone but himself.

Even though this was absolutely, unashamedly the goal of this session, Poe was startled by Finn's sudden forwardness. Startled, and more turned on than he could remember being in a long time, at the thought that his wicked hips ( _oh yeah, still got it!_ ) could and did just shut down Finn's brain with mindless desire, yes, yes, _yes_. Finn even looked like he was about to drag Poe off to another supply closet.

Finn said as much when he whispered "Let's go somewhere," with hungry eyes.

 _Please_ , Poe's brain was saying, _Why aren't we already gone?_

But Poe's mouth, Poe's _stupid_ mouth, was embarrassed that everyone was laughing and cheering and wait they had a job to do, didn’t they, and according to Poe's mouth at least _he_ was still the Commander, he decided when and where, or at least had a reputation of command to protect.

Or maybe Leia's stinging accusations that he was neglecting the Resistance for Finn and Rey still haunted him.

"Aww, baby, I can't let you fuck me right now, my public needs me," Poe said, and everyone was still laughing, losing the rhythm of the dance, and it was all good natured and they _were_ here to work out but three faces told Poe it was the wrong thing to say: Karé's, Iolo's, and Finn's.

Finn snorted, recovering quickly from what Poe had said, but still feeling like he'd been stung, wondering if he'd misread the situation and Poe's fairly blatant flirting. They returned to dancing after the pilots had stopped laughing so hard (at him?), but now Finn was almost too aware of Poe. He kept losing the beat trying to keep an eye on him to figure out what had just happened, partially because he was trying to not make it look like that was what he was doing.

They finished out their hour until everyone was sweaty, and Poe flashed Finn a dizzy grin.

"Hey, Poe, I can cover your patrol today," Karé offered in a low voice.

Poe looked at her sharply, and glanced back at Finn wistfully. "Nah, Karé, don't want you getting in trouble, too."

"Poe, _I'm_ not the one who's in trouble after that stunt."

"You're being a dick," Iolo hissed, with more vehemence. "Poor guy doesn't know what to think about you. I barely know what to think."

Poe bristled. "Since when do my exes get to tell me how to run my new relationship, huh? I'll see you guys later, I have a patrol to run," Poe said, and was in the hangar in his flightsuit before he realized he hadn't said goodbye to Finn.

 _Shit_.

…

By the time Poe got back from his patrol, Finn had been dwelling on the incident at PT long enough to decide he wasn't just confused, but also thoroughly annoyed. He'd already used the 'fresher, mostly to avoid having to come up with a reason why he didn't want to use it with Poe, and he was reading another manual Connix had given him. When the door opened, he glanced up and flashed a polite smile and a quiet, "Hey," before returning to what he was reading.

"Hey, darling," Poe said, going to his knees in front of Finn and nosing in for a kiss, catching his cheek because Finn didn't move to kiss him. Which was fine, he was busy. "Uh, sorry, you're reading. Let me know when you're done?" It was his only night off this week, so he _had_ hoped he could make it up to Finn for how he had acted earlier today.

"Sure," Finn replied, not looking up, and ignoring the silence as it stretched from confused to downright awkward. If Poe thought all was forgiven as easily as that, he could just sit there in his awkward silence and think about it for a minute. _Maybe he'd get past his ego to paying attention to someone besides himself for a change_ , a very ungracious corner of Finn's brain added. _Or he wouldn't get it, and instead he'd go spend some time with his needy "public."_

"Or...don’t?" Poe said, somewhat annoyed when Finn didn't put down his reading. "Tonight's my only night off, so I thought we might pick up where dancing left off if you know what I mean?" he said, grinning a bit playfully and trying to nose his way in past the datapad for a kiss.

Poe was not taking the hint, which only annoyed Finn further. "I thought you were busy," he said pointedly. He wasn't entirely sure why he didn't just give in and tell Poe why he was upset—but he was tired of being the only one who was confused.

"Not tonight, Finno. Tonight I'm yours," Poe said, doing his best to turn on the charm, though it was clear Finn was upset about something when he blocked another kiss. "Hey, Finn." He pulled back. "What's wrong?" Clearly Finn was in a mood. _Perfect timing._

" _Nothing_. I'm fine. I'm trying to read," Finn told him, letting the datapad fall to his lap. "I wasn't expecting you back so soon," he added, which was true. But he couldn't quite bring himself to try an accompanying smile. "Go ahead and take a shower—I left some hot water," he added, and okay, maybe he was trying to push Poe's buttons just to make a point.

Okay, that kind of hurt. Something was _wrong_. "Join me?" Poe tried, one last time. "We don't even have to have sex."

"No thanks—I have to finish this," Finn said pleasantly, holding up the datapad almost between them. He dropped his gaze back to the datapad and continued reading, blatantly ignoring Poe.

Okay. Two could play at this game. Poe took a deep breath to shout, or let off a cutting remark, or _demand_ what the fuck was wrong—sure, he’d maybe been a brat during PT today, but _this_ was an overreaction if that was the only problem—but Poe was tired. Of this, and just generally.

"Whatever," Poe said, trying not to be hurt by this because of _course_ Finn had figured out the best (even only) way to hurt him. The silent treatment was fucking cruel and unusual, and Finn fucking knew that.

Poe left before he could say anything he would regret.

He was seeing a lot of the Resistance bar these days, Poe realized as he ordered a cheap whisky.

Poe was good at cataloguing things he had done wrong in a day, and he had a chance to do that that over a beer. He wanted to get shitfaced but he was also worried about being able to fly, so he stopped there. Okay, so maybe Finn was jealous? But probably not, Poe had had jealous boyfriends before, and Finn wasn't like that. Okay, he'd also been obnoxious when Finn had kissed him. Karé and Iolo had called him out on that, too. Okay, yes. This was his fault.

But, gods damn it, why couldn't Finn _say_ anything?

Poe left half his beer on the bar to head home when he was sure Finn was going to be asleep, and opened the door and shushed BB-8. "Sorry, buddy, I'm home now," he whispered to his nagging droid. Finn was indeed asleep, and Poe slid in beside him, careful not to touch him. "Sorry, Finn," he whispered, though Finn seemed fast asleep and he wasn't even sure what he was apologizing for.

Finn had gone to sleep before Poe returned, hunching up on his own side of the bed in an unhappy little ball. He hardly even noticed to dip of the bed next to him when Poe came back, but when he felt a hand on his shoulder he was too tired to fight with either himself or with Poe. Instead, he grumbled sleepily before rolling over and burying his face against Poe's chest. ‘I love you,’ he almost said, and ‘I'm sorry, and I hate it when we argue,’ but he didn't want to open that door—not right now. Maybe not ever, if it would only result in another heated discussion.

Poe was surprised when Finn rolled against him, and he froze, as if worried he'd start another fight if he moved. ‘I love you,’ he almost said, but Finn was probably still giving him the silent treatment, and Poe felt an actual stab of fear at the thought of Finn refusing to say ‘I love you’ back. So, "‘Night," he felt was safer, and he was asleep in seconds anyway.

 


	2. Chapter 2

_It’s not my fault,_ Poe told himself.

Poe couldn't help himself, though. A dangerous mission, week-long, one of those dark recon missions? He couldn't in his right mind send any of his pilots on that. Maybe Iolo, but only because he was just as crazy as Poe was, or Snap, because he was a good recon man.

But it made Leia raise her eyebrows and actually _look_ at him when he volunteered, as if impressed, if General Organa could be impressed by anyone, and _Maker_ if that didn't make everything all right in the world. And when he got back he wouldn't be in trouble anymore and he could spend at least a whole day in bed with Finn—and maybe Rey, too, if she was back by then!

"Finn? Finn!" Poe called, wandering down the halls to the gyms, where BB-8 said Finn was training. BB-8 was nagging him about something, but Poe tuned them out. He was walking too fast, but that was all the caffeine, probably. He'd need to catch a few hours in hyperspace—that was half the point of taking the long mission, of course—but now his brain was on one track.

Finn. Finn. _Finn_...

They had gotten over their almost-fight by not talking about it the next morning, and had since gone back to normal—which involved barely seeing each other, so Poe wasn't sure he could actually tell if they were fighting or not. Still, he wasn't going to screw it up this time by forgetting to say goodbye. 

Finn was in the gym, alone, actually. Doing chin-ups. Poe watched and waited, because he wasn't made of stone, and Poe counted thirty before Finn dropped, glistening with sweat and just wow. He wondered what he would look like doing that without a shirt.

"Hey," he whispered, voice accidentally gravelly.

Finn's first instinct, when he turned and saw Poe in the doorway, was to go grab Poe and hug him and ask what was _wrong_ , why he looked and sounded like he'd been run over by a bantha. He was halfway there when judgment overrode instinct, and he stopped. "You didn't come home last night..." he said, still hanging back a little, as confused as he was annoyed. Of course, if Poe had been on duty, or if he'd been getting more than three or four hours of sleep, lately, Finn would have thought nothing of it. It wasn't even that he _expected_ him to come home every night, or even let him know when he wasn't going to be home (although it would be nice). But Poe _hadn't_ been on duty, and he _hadn't_ been sleeping much at all lately, and Finn didn't understand why he hadn't come home and slept.

Poe had to think about that for a moment. "Oh, no! No, I caught a few hours, sweetheart," he said, taking Finn in his arms. "You were asleep when I got back—" _so I left again_ , he didn't add, he was ashamed to add, _to grab a few drinks with Snap_ , "and I had to leave again to work on _Black One_ before you woke up. Sorry. I guess I forgot to leave you a note?" Now how had he done that? "But—I have some great news! The General's got a mission for me, and she didn't even look mad at me anymore! I'll be gone a few days, though." He kissed Finn quickly. "You gonna be okay without me, Finno, baby?"

"Don't _call_ me that," Finn groused.

“Then maybe stop acting like one, huh?” Poe teased, though he recognized immediately he had touched a nerve, and backpedaled. “I mean—Gods, Finn, I’m sorry, that was—it was a joke, I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry. I’m just—”

“ _Tired_?” Finn tried, pulling away from the kiss, frustrated now, and a little wounded. He put his hands on Poe's shoulders and held him about a foot away, searching his face for some indication of why he was doing this. "The General is letting you go even though you haven't slept? Does she even know?" he asked, almost accusingly.

Poe stiffened. _Shit_. "Know what? I slept!" he protested, bristling slightly at Finn's tone. "I was going to catch some sleep once I was in hyperspace. You know I wouldn't jeopardize the mission," he said gravely. "And it gets me out of the extra duties and things—so I'm worried about _you_ , Finn. You want me to leave BB-8 with you?"

"I'm not worried about you jeopardizing the mission, Poe!" Finn said, unable to keep the exasperation and—okay, anger—out of his voice. "And I don't need you worrying about _me_! How are you worried about everyone and everything but yourself?" It was reckless, and stupid, and it scared him worse than almost anything. Finn wanted to shake some common sense into Poe, but it seemed counter to the whole purpose of expressing concern for his well-being, even if that concern was currently taking the form of an actual argument. Finn _hated_ arguments. "What if _I_ want you here?" 

"Whoa, hey, easy, _pal_ ," Poe said, but his tone was anything but easy. It was commanding, demanding, all the things it shouldn't be when talking to one's significant other, but Finn had touched a nerve. "You knew what you were getting into when this first started.  _I'm_ fine. I come to tell you I'm leaving for a week and you start an argument! Sounds like you're the one who woke up on the wrong side of the bed." He waved a hand and stepped back as if to move off. "I'll see you later, sweetheart," he bit out.

"You can't go," Finn snapped, desperate to do something to stop Poe getting in a ship when it was a miracle (the miracle of caffeine) that he was upright and coherent. Semi-coherent. He'd never be doing this if he were fully coherent, would he? Finn had not had enough sleep to even begin dealing with that one. "You can't," he repeated, "I won't let you," he added. Didn't Poe realize it was for his own safety? That Finn was worried because he loved him and just wanted him safe when at all possible? _Why_ didn't he understand?

Poe actually scoffed at that. He might have been touched, he should have been touched, that Finn seemed so concerned—even if it was unfounded—but as it was it only rankled, like he was at his meetings with Dr. Kalonia. Poe took orders from just one person, and that was himself. Aside from General Organa. Maybe his father if he was in a generous mood. "Finn. That's not how this works. I have a job to do, and I'll be damned if I send any of my people out on this—" _Okay, maybe avoid how dangerous this mission is supposed to be, that'll only make things worse_ , said a slightly rational part of himself—who had gotten into a dangerous habit of lying-by-omission to his boyfriend! In his panic, he lashed out: "Look—just—you need to wake up, Finn! Maybe when I get back you’ll have grown up a little, huh?” As soon as he said it Poe wanted to snatch the words back: it was like he was outside his body, watching someone else say these things—but it was too late.

"I—" Finn started, but stammered to a stop, caught completely off-guard by how much that _stung_. "Maybe you're the one who needs to wake up, Poe, and take your boyfriend's desires under consideration once in a while. You have no place flying when you're like this, and I don't want you going up there," he growled. Grow up? Poe knew how much Finn had had to learn in the recent months—he _knew_! And he knew Finn wouldn't be happy until he'd ‘caught up’ with those who'd had a comparatively normal upbringing. He knew that, and he'd just—he’d used it _against_ him. Finn hardly realized he was reacting, part of him screaming at him to stop, to walk away, let this cool down because it must be a huge misunderstanding, it was because they were both exhausted, and cranky, but— "Don't make me go over your head and get you grounded, because I'll do it, for your own damned good—"

Poe blinked, and suddenly, somehow, he had Finn shoved against a wall, hands fisting in his shirt, teeth bared. "Don't you _fucking_ say that word to my face," he snarled.

Poe was hot, rage flaring from his chest to set his limbs on fire because he was scared, _no, you cannot ground me, you cannot, I have to fly, I'm nothing if I can't fly, I can’t fight_ him _if I can’t fly, I can do this in my sleep and I will, I just want to keep you all safe, I need to keep everyone safe, the Resistance will not be intimidated by_ —

Poe let out a breath he had been holding, dropped his hands, and, caught still between rage and fear and soul-crushing regret, he left.

It wasn't until he was in the sky, in hyperspace, that the adrenaline began to wear off. Poe cut his comlink to BB-8 and burst into tears.

…

Finn stood in shocked silence after Poe stormed out, trying to convince himself that that hadn't just happened. He half expected Poe to return, but—he didn't. Why had he said that? Why had he thrown the possibility of grounding in Poe's face—practically made him choose between Finn and flying—when he knew good and well how his boyfriend felt about flying—how he _needed_ it? Why?

Eventually he realized someone was going to come to use the gym and catch him there, just standing there, and his acting skills were nowhere near that required to convince anyone that he was alright. After haphazardly throwing his things back into his gym bag, he took the shortest route back to their room, practically running to get there.

The bed was still unmade, the vague indications of two people present by the way the blankets were thrown and by the two pillows, smashed down from having been slept on all night. Finn dropped his bag just inside the door and went to the bed, curling into his spot and reaching over to grab Poe's pillow and hug it to him, burying his face in it and finally letting the tears come.

…

Jessika Pava knew that his flyboy being off-planet for a week would bother Finn, but she didn't think it should be bothering him _quite_ this much. It didn't take her long to corner him in the armory, cleaning weapons with an efficiency that was as much fascinating as it was worrying. He did it so easily and so perfectly, and she tried not to think about this skill being drilled into him from the time he was old enough to _hold_ a gun.

"Hey, Finn," she said, returning the sidearm she had been firing at the range. "Um—I already cleaned it—you don’t need more work from me—but I think it's jammed. You think you could fix it?"

"Sure," Finn said, not even registering who was handing him the firearm until he reached out to take it and recognized Jess's hand. He glanced up at her in surprise. "Yeah, I can fix it. Thanks," he said, putting a little more effort into making the right face—one that wasn't the kind of numb, dazed look he'd been using since this morning, when he hauled himself out of bed with a pounding headache to come clean weapons endlessly. It was mindless, dull work, but at least it was something to do that wasn't dwelling on his argument with Poe.

Jess frowned, pulling herself up onto the table and crossing her legs. "Spill," she said. "What did you and Poe fight about?" When he looked up at her, shocked, she smiled and raised her hands. "Look, I know the signs. Just because I don't date guys—which I don’t do because all of you are emotionally stunted freaks—doesn't mean I can't tell there's something off. What did he do? Did he cheat on you? Make you choose between him or Rey? I'd gladly punch him for you, CO or not, you know..."

"No, no! Nothing like that," Finn said, quick to defend Poe's reputation. "He shouldn't have been flying. And I said so, and then he was concerned about _me_ , and treating me like—and I got angry because he wasn't concerned about _himself_ , or me, and I threatened to go to the General, and then he got mad." He sighed unhappily, toying with the sidearm Jess had handed him and trying to find the jam she'd mentioned. "And then he left."

Jess whistled. "Ah. So the reason our darling Dameron is unmarried at thirty-two is that he still hasn't figured this out." She smiled, a bit weirded out that Finn could watch her while still fiddling with the blaster with unerring accuracy, but she pressed on. "Okay, you hear it from me, this is straight-up gossip, but it's _friendly_ gossip. You ask Karé or Iolo for the facts. So my biased ass says you deserve better, but you can't find better than him—" That was confusing, so she shook her head and tried again. "I mean, you deserve for him to treat you better than that, but you may have to demand it of him. He loves you, Finn, and that's not gossip or bias. He loves the fuck out of you. He's just an _idiot_. An idiot who thinks he's got it under control when he actually needs a lot of help. You know, like everybody. Only he thinks he's the only one and he's embarrassed about it." Jess rolled her eyes, muttering something that sounded like ' _Men_ ,' under her breath. 

Finn wasn't sure how to respond to that, and his hands went still on the sidearm while he tried to come up with something. "I love him too—so much. I want to help him, just like I want him to help me. I _knew_ it would upset him if I said anything about grounding him and I said it _anyway_ , just because he'd said something mean to me." Finn had no idea how normal people dealt with this sort of thing, but he was not equipped. "Why did we even _do_ that?" he asked plaintively.

Jess reached out to touch Finn's hand. She shrugged. "People make mistakes? You both were tired, angry, fussy, not enough sex, bad sex, who knows? You apologize, forgive each other and move on. Poe gets into these—gods, I think he's serial with this—and no one knows why, Finn—he gets focused on his job, like he has something to prove, like we don't already all know he's the best pilot in the kriffing galaxy. That's why I say idiot. He gets into this Mood and he won't slow down. So far all I've heard is ignoring it doesn't work and, based on what you said, threatening to go over his head doesn't work. He'll feel bad about it when it's over, when he works it out of his system. I hope he feels super shitty and you make him grovel before you take him back, but I hope you'll take him back." She thought carefully. "That can be worked through. If anyone can make him see reason, it's you. Everyone's got their own baggage, right? He's a good man and he'd do anything for you," Jess added, not wanting it to sound like Finn was responsible for fixing Poe any more than Poe was responsible for fixing Finn, or Rey was responsible for fixing both of them (why, gods, why wasn't Rey a lesbian?) or they were responsible for fixing her. 

"But, Finn, there's one part of this that's unforgivable," Jess added, and squeezed his hand until he looked at her. "If Poe doesn't stop treating you like you're not an adult, I want you to dump his ass. From space." She smiled brightly and was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

Leia knew this could happen any day, and that they were living on borrowed time, anyway. The First Order knew what system they were in, but because they had been hurt by the destruction of the Starkiller Base, the Resistance had, for a nice change, been on the offensive, pecking at First Order outposts to further weaken them. She had been advised to move several times, but the First Order had _no_ idea where in these nine planets they actually were, so she hadn't.

Until now.

"It's a resurgent-class star destroyer," Admiral Statura said quietly. "We think it may be the _Finalizer_."

Leia let nothing show on her face, though internally she shuddered. "How much time do we have?"

"Less than an hour," the tech said.

Leia smiled. "Oh, no problem, I think I’ll wash my hair first. You know we cleared Hoth in twenty minutes? Begin the evacuation, get _all_ squadrons in the air, try to hold them off. We evacuate in an orderly fashion, by Priority Level—"

"General, that means your ship is already wait—"

" _Except_ for me, you know that, Connix," she said with a wry smile. "All right, move! Get me on the PA system—" Leia cleared her throat as a com appeared before her.

"Attention all hands," she said, not allowing her voice to tremble. “The First Order has learned the location of our base, and they will be here within the hour. I need everyone to calmly and orderly proceed through evacuation procedures and meet at the rendezvous point. Priorities are Alpha, Beta, and Gamma facilities: medical, tactical, and civilian. Everyone is to assist with these until we get them in the air, and then get to your own transports." She paused, feeling the entire base thrum like a coiled spring. "May the Force be with you," she said, and clicked it off.

…

Finn and his troops were on one of the last transports off the base, having helped load all the rest.  He was the last one onto his own transport, and stood by the loading ramp to watch as the base fell away behind them, the first of the First Order ground forces already touching down. He paced the short distance from the front to the back of the transport—of course this was bound to happen eventually, but this was _home_ , the first home he'd ever had, and the thought of leaving it to the First Order made him want to single-handedly destroy every last one of them.

The First Order had even sent in anti-aircraft weapons, the low-slung AT-AAs that they had repurposed from the war. These were already taking shots at the transports, and there was radio static as a fleet-wide communication warned them of incoming TIEs. The X-Wings were already in the air, but there was only so much they could do against a concerted onslaught from both ground and air, and Finn knew there would be casualties.

They needed more help from the ground.

Rather than taking straight to the sky, the transports had scattered to the four winds, giving the First Order too many targets to focus on. They skimmed low over the ground, passing over one of the AT-AAs as it took a pot-shot at them, more seeming to harass than disable, and Finn decided he'd had enough. "I'll catch another one," he growled over his shoulder, and before anyone could stop him, he jumped. It was not a soft landing, but he wasn't injured—they’d been close enough to the ground and moving slowly enough that tucking and rolling saved him from any broken bones.

The AT-AA driver never even saw him coming, although he did look a little confused when Finn yanked the hatch off and pointed a blaster at him. He blinked, and blinked again, as if surprised he wasn’t already dead.

"GET OUT," Finn snarled, and the trooper continued to stare until Finn grabbed him bodily and flung him from the AT-AA. Finn thunked into the pilot's seat and bared his teeth at the targeting system as he recalibrated it to notify him of First Order ships or ground vehicles.

" _That’s_ what I'm talkin' about!" he shouted as he took out two other AT-AAs before anyone even realized that his was rogue.

DK-1313 hit the ground hard, the breath knocked out of him. He'd only seen the face for a second, but he was certain, and when he had his breath back:

"Holy shit you guys, FN-2187 just threw me out of my AT-AA! He's real!" He was laughing, sounding like he had just met a celebrity.

And then re realized that had been on an open channel.

Captain Phasma's voice echoed inside his helmet. "Well done, DK-1313. Get to the main hangar and join our ground forces there."

DK-1313 tore his helmet off. "Fuck _that_ ," he said, and ran.

Captain Phasma opened all channels: "Squadrons two and five, with me. Lock onto AT-AA #717 and destroy it. It has been captured by the enemy."

"Is the traitor in there?" one of her pilots asked.

"The First Order has no traitors, TK-9460. Only those who have been captured and brainwashed by the enemy. Fall in. Ground troops focus on the base. I am still reading life forms inside. Set for stun and take prisoners. We need to know where they're going."

Finn realized he had maybe not thought this through entirely when the first TIE left a crater near his right front leg and nearly took down the dumpy little AT-AA. He righted it and swung the cannon around to take out his attacker and saw about thirty more coming from various corners, some still under attack by the X-Wings—looked like Blue Squadron. He had no way of communicating to the pilots, but apparently they'd decided that TIEs attacking one of their own was unusual enough to warrant getting in the way. Or, perhaps, his soldiers had warned them that he was probably on the ground, and they'd put it together. Either way, he was still outnumbered. The AT-AA was frustratingly slow, but once he figured out all the other weapons, he managed to take out a few more TIEs.

Then the world tilted as he stepped in another crater courtesy of the First Order, and everything when very bright and very loud, and then very dark.

…

Connix swore. "Answer your damned com, Finn!"

"What's wrong?" Leia asked, the base crumbling around her ears. Well, around her buns, as she was sporting her iconic Alderaanian hair twists on either side of her head. It wasn’t a flattering look on her at her age, but they made her feel powerful.  

"General!" Connix cried, turning around, and stamped her foot. "You were supposed to be on that last transport!"

"I asked you what's wrong, Lieutenant Connix."

She growled. "Sergeant Finn is not answering his comlink."

Leia's eyes darkened. "He was supposed to be on the transport with the other ground troops! We’re _leaving_!"

"He was—then I get a message saying he... _jumped off_ the transport and commandeered an AT-AA..."

"He _what_?"

"General, with all due respect, _you_ shouldn't be here, either."

Leia swore. Colorfully. "All right, give the final evacuation code and grab the coms. We'll keep trying to find him," she said, making her way through the rubble to her transport, where Captain Kun waited to fly the last of them off planet.

They were aboard the shuttle just in time, blaster shots pinging off the hull, and suddenly Connix gave a cry: "Finn! Finn? Finn where are you? We'll come by to pick you up! Answer me, Sergeant!"

Someone was shouting at him. Not Phasma or anyone from the First Order, because they wouldn't use his name—and anyway, he doubted they wanted to talk to him, so much as kill him. Or capture him. Probably capture him.

"Lieutenant?" he asked in confusion, "I don't—dunno," he slurred, and shook his head. "Think I've been hit," he added. "But I can't—oh, now I can see." It generally helped to have your eyes open if you wanted to see anything...

The view was not incredibly promising. The vehicle was scrap metal around him, and it didn't immediately look like there was any way out. He was not entirely right-side-up, but he wasn't upside down either, which probably meant the AT-AA had crumpled on one side and was tilted.  If he had to guess, the reason he could no longer see out was probably because he was half-buried in the dirt thrown up by the explosions. He reached for his restraint to free himself and try to crawl out, but it was jammed. When he tried to move his other arm to pull something—anything—free, he hissed.

"Arm's broken," he mumbled. "Maybe ribs, too. Kinda hurts," he added.  Perhaps if he could at least free his legs, he could reach his blaster in the footwell nearby. "FUCK. Fuck, fuck, shit," he said, and then, "S-sorry, General." He was stuck. He was stuck, but he wasn't sure how, and he reached frantically to his leg, blinking until he could get his eyes to focus on it.

He wondered what the General and Lieutenant would think of a battle-and-First-Order-hardened ex-stormtrooper scrambling urgently to get the com out of range as he twisted to the side and threw up. "'M stuck. It's—‘m sorry, General Organa. You can't—" he started, realized what he was saying, and panicked. They couldn't come get him. He didn't want them to try. But the First Order had to be nearby, and they had to know he was still here, and they _could_ come get him, and they'd make an exception to their rule about heavily damaged stormtroopers, if it meant they could use him as bait or recondition him to attack his friends.

"The hell we can't," Leia said. "Do you know how insufferable Dameron is going to be if I let anything happen to you? Connix, _no_ , you get up there and fly with Karé. I'm on the com." Leia sighed. Everything was darkness and chaos, but if she could save this one life, this one life that represented that the First Order could be fought against, nothing else mattered.

"Finn, I need a damage report," she said. "And I need you to remain calm. We're coming to get you."

"We've got incoming! Four contacts." Karé shouted from the cockpit, jinking to the best of her ability, but this wasn't the starfighter she was used to. "Shit. Connix, can you handle weapons on this thing?"

"Do I have a choice?"

Leia swore. Where was Poe when she needed him?

…

Poe did manage to catch _some_ sleep in hyperspace (though that was a stupid plan, too, he knew he didn’t sleep well alone), but out of his 156 standard-hour mission, he only slept about 40 hours total, and the mission really only occupied about twenty-seven hours of work and focus—he’d gotten the pictures, remained undetected, and got out.

Which left exactly eighty-nine hours to reflect on what a massive tool he was.

At least half of those were spent missing Rey. Forty-four and a half hours to ache for her, to want her to hate him, to beat the ever-loving shit out of him, to want to throw himself on her lap and weep while she ran her fingers through his hair. Forty-four and a half hours to wonder where his mommy issues ended and where his actual love of a real woman who was categorically better than him in every possible way—except in their faults, where she was even worse than he was—began.

This never would have happened if she had been there, and he spent a dark chunk of that time hating her for always leaving them. Bad things happened when she left. If Rey had been there, she would have knocked some sense into him, or into Finn, she would have _fixed_ this (okay, seriously, Dameron, stop with the mommy issues, she’s still twelve and a half years younger than you, and still the woman you want to _marry_ , the woman you will lust after, unrequited, until the day you die). Maybe they wouldn’t have even felt like fighting if she was just _there_.

Not to mention the matter of why he had told Finn to grow up. There was no universe in which a literal child soldier needed to grow up. But Poe had been stupid, and angry, and he had known it would upset Finn, and that was why he had said it. Using his powers of observation for evil. Which was _worse._  

Okay. Okay, the plan was, apologize. Beg, if need be. Finn had been right—well, okay, not _right_ —because he had made it! The mission was a success. Well, it had been a bust, but a good one, and he was coming back to base whole. He _could_ fly, he could always fly, he completed his mission. But Finn was his boyfriend, his partner. Hell, Poe wanted to _marry_ Finn! He needed to have listened to him, whether or not he was technically right.

He couldn’t let this go even in the comfort of his own cockpit. Can we say control freak? Can we say problems with authority?

Can we say not fit for duty?

Fuck. No. He was going to get Finn back. He was going to do everything in his power to get Finn to take him back, to apologize, to make it up to him, because Finn deserved better from him. He could be better. Rey deserved better from him, too. The Resistance deserved better from him.

Eighty-eight hours later and he was still cycling through the same old bantha shit.

“That’s right, BB-8, one more stop to recalibrate and we’re home. Sounds nice, huh?” _Black One_ didn’t need the top-up, but he was stalling, and it was a good thing he was, because Poe was about to be very glad he stopped for fuel.

Suddenly, BB-8 whistled in alarm. [Evacuation code! Friend-Poe, Friend-Poe! The base is under attack!]

“What?!” Poe yelped, launching himself into the cockpit and disengaging the fuel line. “Under attack? While we’re _gone_?” His heart was thudding painfully in his chest. “How old is that transmission?”

[Minutes. But we’re an hour out.]

“Let’s shave off as much of that as we can, Bee. Send a message, Priority Command Scramble 218-Phi-Iota-Nu: _Black Leader ETA 1307GS. Cannons hot. All squadrons to report to Snap in my absence. Request sit-rep upon arrival_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from ASingerOfSongs: 
> 
> a;lksdjflkjasdf thank you so much for the luck and good wishes and support, especially from thespinninghead, Ari2571, laral, and beautifullights! I passed my defense and turned in my dissertation and officially graduated. I've moved and am getting settled, and hope to be more active and answer comments in the future, instead of just being this random co-author who sits in her quiet introvert corner and lets her much more gregarious extrovert co-author do her comments-answering thing.


	4. Chapter 4

_Damage report?_ _Like...like about the AT-AA he'd been driving?_

"The AT-AA is...damaged," Finn said, and laughed for a moment through the panic, before it came back in full force.

“No, Sergeant, I mean _you_.”

Oh. "Arm, ribs," he said, and glanced at his leg, trying to get an idea of the full extent of damage. It was a bad idea—it just made him panic all over again. Being impaled did that to you, apparently. He shut his eyes briefly. "Leg's stuck." And bleeding, and he didn't know how he was supposed to remain calm when he couldn't get away or even defend himself. "It's—‘s bad," he said honestly, "'M sorry," he added, "Didn' mean to disobey 'n order, but they were shooting, and _the base_ —wanted to protect—" he was in no way coherent enough to explain that he'd wanted to protect his home and anyone still left in it. "I'm sorry," he repeated.

"You didn't disobey an order, Finn," Leia said. "You saved a lot of people. I'm proud of you. Don't try to move your leg. We're going to get you out of there. Tell me, does the First Order believe in med kits? A bit of bacta spray might make your wait a bit more comfortable until we can find—"

"There he is, ma'am!"

But then there was a hail of blaster fire.

"Shields holding. General, we really can't—"

"We are not leaving without him."

" _General_!"

"Finn, hold on. We're right above you."

"Commander Dameron should be here in a few minutes."

"We haven't got a few minutes!"

Finn heard blaster fire, both through the com and nearby, and struggled briefly even though it hurt and made everything go a little hazy. He heard the General and Connix arguing over the comm.  "General," he said, forcing his voice to be calm, "You have to go. It will take them—" he tried to think for a moment, and gave up with a shrug, making up a number (it was easy to lie to protect the people he cared about): "It will take them ten minutes to even get to me," he told her. "Poe will be here by then. And if he's not..." he considered if it was worth requesting that someone take them out—the AT-AA and him together—if they did manage to get their hands on him. Probably that would only make Leia yell at him. "He'll be here," he finished, and took a few deep breaths. If the First Order _was_ going to find him, they weren't going to find him crying and panicked and mindless. He wiped his eyes, but his hand came away bloody.

…

Poe careened out of hyperspace right on top of the base, pulling up just in time to avoid hitting a mostly smoking wasteland. _This happened because you ran away_ , a dark side of himself reminded him.

The force of their re-entry nearly shore his S-foils off as he opened them coming in too fast, but the place was swarming with TIEs, enough that he could just take them down at random.

Poe had no more fucks to give, so he opened all channels:

“This is Commander Poe Dameron, does anyone copy?”

“Commander. Good to hear you’re still alive.”

Not a voice he expected to hear. He knew that voice. That was that kriffing— _Captain Phasma_. He still had an imprint of her fist on his temple.

“H-how did you get this frequency?”

Besides the fact that he’d been sloppy.

“My men are in your command center, Commander. Your Resistance is gone.”

“No,” Poe said, and, detecting only hostiles inside the base, he dropped his three bombs on top of it. There were too many missing transports. They got away and Phasma was just trying to fuck with him.

“Poe! Black Leader!” Snap screamed, crackling in on his comlink. “The General’s over that ridge, 12-mark-7, and we think something’s happened to Finn! Get over there, we can hold them here!”

Poe went cold, gripping the yoke of his X-Wing. _Finn_.

He heard Captain Phasma laugh, and an Advanced TIE X1 roared over him. “Race you there,” she said, sounding like she was _enjoying_ herself.

“Oh no you fucking don’t,” Poe growled, and then hopped frequencies. “Priority rescramble, Bee, I don’t want to listen to her anymore. I need you to find Finn for me, okay, buddy? Where’s Finn? Please have your com with you, please,” Poe muttered to Finn. Fear punched adrenaline through his whole body, heightening every sense. He took down three TIEs in less than thirty seconds, though Phasma still eluded him, gods damn her chrome-bucket-head to hell!

“Dameron!”

“Leia!” Poe gasped, forgetting all protocol. He was lucky he didn’t call her “Mom,” frankly.

“Finn’s down in that crashed AT-AA. We’re going to touch down while you cover—”

“Are you kriffing kidding me? What’s he doing in— _no_! No! General, get _out_ of there!” Poe swore, holding down the trigger on Phasma’s TIE, but shit, that thing was _fast_.

“He’s hurt, Poe, I need you to talk to him. Calm him down.”

BB-8 already had the frequency.

 _Black One_ and the shuttle circled the wreckage like korrina wolves defending a wounded pack member, but there were just too many TIEs, and ground troops advancing from all sides. Poe picked them off, making craters in the terrain to slow them down, but there was no way either of them could land without being sitting ducks.

“Finn? Finn, buddy, it’s Poe. How’s it hanging, pal?” he tried to keep his voice light, but he grunted as he jinked and danced and fired all his blaster canons. He might have taken down twelve TIEs, he might have hit the same one twelve times, it was all too fast and he could hear Finn’s labored _breathing_ and oh Maker how bad was it? The adrenaline rush threatened to be overwhelmed by sheer panic. “Finn, can you hear me? Answer me, Finno.”

Finn was fine—well, ‘fine’ all being relative, but he was holding it together, mostly, so he wouldn't embarrass himself. He could hear sounds from outside of people trying, presumably, to come to his rescue. If one of those people was the General, and he got out of this, words were going to be had, if he could get away with such a thing.

Anyway, he was doing fine. Sure, he was hyperventilating, and it eventually occurred to him that his leg was probably bleeding and that's why he was feeling steadily worse, but he wasn't sobbing, even if he really wanted to.

He was completely unprepared for Poe's voice over the com, and he held his breath when he first heard it, trying to get himself back under control. "Poe?" he asked, "H-hi." That wasn't what he wanted to say at all. "I'm sorry." He seemed to be saying that an awful lot—this was the first time his voice had shaken, though. "I'm sorry, I'm not—‘m not mad, I love you. Are you? Mad?" He'd never wanted anything more than he wanted Poe to not be angry. So much for Jess's advice about making him grovel...

"Whoa, hey, hey, Finn, Finno, sweethear— _shit_! Mother _fuckers_!—I’m not mad. I am _so_ not mad. I love you and I’m sorry and I have a long apology speech and I'm gonna tell it to you when I get you out of there, okay? Hang on for me, can you do that? It’s a good speech, you’re going to want to hear it. Right now I need you to breathe." Poe took his own advice, counting breaths with downed TIEs and ground troopers, but Phasma just wouldn't hold still! She was _almost_ as good as he was, and her shots kept getting closer to Finn, rocking the helpless AT-AA, and it was pissing him off.

"Hurts," Finn whimpered as he tried to take a deep breath—the broken ribs were not helping the situation. He shifted to try to take some of the pressure off of them so he could breathe easier, and managed at least enough room to not be taking quick, gasping breaths. His vision was starting to get a little fuzzy around the edges. With his good arm, he rummaged around for something—anything, really—to press against his leg, even if that was going to make him wish he'd never been born. Eventually, he found a discarded piece of what looked like a stormtrooper shirt. Instead of pressing it to his wound, he wrapped it around his leg one-handed, stuffed one end through a knot in the other, and yanked it tight.

After that, he kind of floated for awhile, not really registering anything at all that was going on around him. "Poe? Still there?" he asked sluggishly.

"Of course I'm here, bud," Poe said, and winced at the sounds Finn was making. "I know it hurts. M-maybe don't breathe quite so hard, okay? Slow, shallow breaths. And just—just hold still for me. I'm going to be right down to get you. Heard you pulled a pretty badass stunt to get yourself in this mess. General's real impressed. You stop reminding her of her husband, or I'll have to fight her for your affections, what do you think? I think she’d totally kick my ass." He was just babbling helplessly, being driven slowly insane by the gasps and barely-stifled whimpers he heard from Finn's com while he was supposed to be focused on this dogfight. He took a deep breath and let it out in three short bursts, downing three TIEs with each hit. He switched his com frequency: "General, get out of here, _please_ , I’m taking care of this."

"Poe, you can't—"

"I'll get him out in _Black One_. Karé, get her out of there, that is a direct order."

"Roger that, Black Leader," Karé said, and bless her—or Connix, who said, "Oops, my hand sl—" and then the connection was lost as they shot into hyperspace.

Poe laughed, circling around Phasma. It was just the two of them now.

"Finn? Finn, you still with me? Want me to start my apology now, buddy? Might make you feel better hearing me describe the one thousand ways in which I screwed up and am a complete douchebag who doesn't deserve you." Self-loathing was good fuel for a dogfight, and Phasma knew what she was doing.

"Still here. Kinda bought us some time," Finn told him, sitting perfectly still. He didn't have much energy to move, anyway. "Owe you an apology, too." A blast rocked the AT-AA and he swallowed a helpless moan of pain, death-gripping the arm of the seat and taking several harsh breaths. " _Fuck_ ," he said. "Someone should remind her that obsession isn't healthy." It was a poor attempt at a joke, but it was what he had.

"Hey, hey, Finn, Finn, stay with me, stay with me, buddy," Poe said, panic edging into his voice at Finn's cry and the way the vehicle rocked. "Okay, you just sit tight, Finn, I'm gonna finish this." Poe arced around to get behind her, and though she couldn't lose him, he couldn't land a hit, either. He was running out of time!

"I don't have to kill you, Commander. I just have to out-wait you. Prevent you from retrieving my soldier, whom you kidnapped once before from me and —"

"Kidnapped?" Poe spluttered. "He _left_ you crazy people—" And here he had an idea, switching to an open channel again, amplifying his Communications so every comlink in the area could hear him. "He defected the First Order because you people are _fucked up_. Because you are terrorists trying to resurrect a corrupt government. He _defected_ , and FN-2187 has a name now, and his name is Finn, and our _General_ stayed behind to keep him safe. We keep our people safe. How many men have you lost today, Phasma? I'm gonna bet it's a hell of a lot more than we lost."

That did it: maybe Phasma did have a heart somewhere deep down, or maybe she just wanted her numbers to look good on her next review ( _Only got 900 stormtroopers killed this quarter—go me!_ he imagined her thinking). Maybe, as he also hoped, she was trying to jam his coms so no one would hear him singing the praises of their model stormtrooper who had defected.

Either way, she was one jink too slow, and Poe hollered as he clipped her under her wing, disabling her cannons. "Ha, take that, bitch!" he cried, peeling off to follow her smoking and retreating TIE. "Just hang on, okay, Finn? I need you to stay calm for me, I'm just gonna finish this and then—"

Poe _had_ her, he could make her pay, for what she did to him, to Finn, for what she did to the Resistance, he was going to end her right now, and then the First Order would not only not have a victory but they would have a _loss_ —

But none of that mattered. The contest was over before Poe even realized he was going to start arguing with himself. He had to get to Finn. He was going to let her get away.

"I—I mean, I'm on my way, Finn, I'm coming to you now," Poe corrected, peeling off from the pursuit. He didn’t watch her go. "Want you to count to thirty for me, buddy, and I'll be there."

He didn't even manage a landing sequence, thunking poor _Black One_ against the ground more roughly than she deserved. Poe was sure she understood.

Finn lost count somewhere around twenty-five, and was trying to get his place back when he heard the sound of something landing right next to him. "Poe?" he asked, "Please tell me that's you." But already there was dirt being cleared from the window, and a familiar shade of orange, and Finn could have fainted, he was so happy to see Poe's flight suit. In fact, it was entirely possible he did faint, because it seemed like mere moments later that the hatch was wrenched off the top of the AT-AA.

Poe wasn't made for this kind of work, but there were those stories of a mother lifting a speeder bus off her child, and Poe guessed this was something like that. Also the vehicle really was shot to shit. He was lucky Finn was still alive as he wrenched free what was left of the visual panel. "Hey," he said brightly. "You don't look so bad!" he managed, though Finn actually looked like hell, and guilt nearly knocked the air out of him. "Nothing we can't take care of, huh? How's my guy?" he said, not even caring that he put his elbow down in blood or vomit or _both_ to press a kiss to Finn's brow. "I got you," he whispered, trying to assess the damage quickly. "I've got you, Finn."

"You're here," Finn said, managing a smile. "This arm is not broken," he added, holding up his unbroken arm. "And that leg is fine." He pointed to the leg that didn't have an obvious piece of metal sticking out of it. He wasn't even going to look at the other one, or think about it too hard.  He watched Poe, instead, reassuring himself that he was _here_ , that he was _real_ , that this wasn't some blood-loss-induced dream about being rescued by his knight in a shining...uh...black…X-Wing?

It was possible he was getting a little silly and incoherent.

"Of course I'm here," Poe said, taking the arm that wasn't broken and kissing his hand. "And you're not gonna move, you hear me? Gonna let me do all the work. Let's see what this is doing here—" Poe barely refrained from swearing aloud as he realized what looked like a bit of metal crumpled into Finn's thigh was actually part of the frame going _into_ and—yes, he confirmed— _through_ his leg. "Okay, this is going to hurt. More," he said, tightening the tourniquet around Finn's thigh, holding him down as that made Finn wince. He knew he should leave that to be removed by a medical professional, but they were short on those, and also metal cutters and also time. So there was nothing for it. "But you're going to be okay. Promise. I'm not going to let you not be okay."

Finn tried, he really did, but couldn't keep tears from springing to his eyes and starting to fall down his cheeks. His good hand was clenched into such a tight fist that he could feel his short nails biting into his palm, and he was shaking, fine tremors that didn't seem to originate anywhere specific, and he wondered if he was actually cold, since the hair was standing up on his arms, but then decided there was no way that was possible on a jungle planet in the middle of the day. " _Poe_ —" he whimpered, needing to tell him about it but lacking the faculties to do so.

"Hey, hey, Finn, I'm here. Everything's going to be— _shit_!" he cried as his com crackled at an alarming volume:

"Poe! Poe, are you down there?"

"Snap, fuck me, buddy, you scared me. Yes, I'm down here, I'm getting Finn. Can you cover us?"

"Yeah, but you got, like, five minutes, tops, Poe. We're fine now but they're sending more air cover down on us."

"Okay, it's okay," Poe said, shutting his com off. Finn was going into shock, based on where his eyes were looking somewhere past Poe's shoulder, and that wasn't good, but he seemed to have it in him to stay conscious for one last push, which was all he needed.

So Poe got up close and personal with him, leaning in close to his face. "Finn, buddy, I know I screwed up. I know you're probably mad at me, and I deserve it, and we will hash this out when we get to the rendezvous point. But I'm gonna need you to trust me, okay?" Finn nodded, his face open and way more trusting than Poe deserved, but he pressed on: "I need you to do just one thing for me, okay, Finn? Just one big thing. Need you to wrap your arm around my shoulders, around the back of my neck, yeah, just like that," he said, guiding the one arm that wasn't broken around him, "and I need you to _not let go_. No matter what happens, no matter how much it hurts, no matter if you start going to sleep, I don't care. Do not let go of me." Poe was strong, but he really wasn't strong enough to lift Finn without help, not after ripping an AT-AA apart with his bare hands, which was what was about to happen. "You got that, Finn?"

"Got it," Finn mumbled, and nodded for good measure, grasping a handful of Poe's flight suit so he'd be less likely to let go. "Not mad at you." Given that Finn was probably about to use a great many curses directed mainly at Poe, it was important he knew that.

Poe grinned against the tears and kissed his brow. "Maybe you hit your head harder than you thought," he said, and grabbed the frame of the vehicle and pushed it upward. Poe screamed with exertion as it hinged back, neck muscles bulging, sweat crawling down his spine. Finn might have been screaming, too, but he held on, bless him, and the frame bent back up, and then Poe tied a hasty bacta bandage around his thigh, as tight as he could, before putting both arms around Finn and hauling him free of the wreckage.

Holding on to Poe went against everything his body wanted him to do. It _hurt_ , and Finn wanted to curl away from the pain or else punch Poe to make him stop, but Poe had said to hold on to him, and Finn wasn't sure he could convince his hand—or any other part of him—to do anything else right now. He managed, barely, to hold on to Poe until they were out of the AT-AA, but his whole body was screaming loud enough to drown anything else out, and though he tried, he felt himself slipping, and managed only a groan of warning to Poe before he completely lost consciousness.

"Whoa whoa whoa hey—Finn, stay with me, stay with—shit," Poe grunted as Finn's eyes rolled back and his body sagged. "Okay. Okay, it's all right, I've got you," he whispered, to no one. "Snap, you there, buddy?" he checked.

"Right above you," he heard the answer. "Gods, is Finn okay? Can you get into _Black One_ okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Poe gasped. "Just cover us." Grunting with exertion, Poe got Finn into his arms and into the cockpit—he didn't know how. It wasn't pretty. They were leaving a smear of blood across the grass. And there was, of course, nowhere to put him, so Poe slammed the seat back and had Finn in his lap, with Snap still screaming at him to get his shields up and get in the air.

He'd learned from Jakku. Shields were the first things up just as a hail of blaster fire rained down on him. In his arms, Finn groaned, and Poe tugged him close. "I know, buddy, I know, I'm sorry. Stay with me. Maker, stay with me," he prayed, easing _Black One_ into the air as gingerly and quickly as he could.

"Poe, you with us?"

"Yeah. Shit. Everyone made it out?"

"Everyone who's going to," Wexley said grimly. Of course there had been casualties, but no one had been left behind alive. "Poe, you've got the coordinates? We've got to get out of here. You and me are the last ones."

"Yeah, I got 'em," Poe said, punching them in for BB-8 as a fresh wave of TIES rained down from heaven. "Got 'em, buddy?" BB-8 whistled affirmatively. "Okay, see you on the other side, Snap."

The jump to hyperspace didn't even faze him right now. Instead he was already turning Finn over in his arms and going for his med pack. The leg wound was still bleeding, so he got a tighter bandage around it, and more bacta, and eventually he could ease up on the tourniquet. He gave Finn a shot for the pain, and a saline solution for the blood loss, though he wasn’t sure that was going to be enough. The way Finn was gasping, he fit his own life support unit over Finn's mouth and nose, helping him breathe easier. The med kit came with a wrap, so he carefully wrapped Finn's arm and got it immobilized against his chest, hopefully not where any of the broken ribs were, though he wouldn't know until Finn woke up. Then, over all of that, he pulled a silvery blanket and kicked up the cabin heat until he was sweating. Now Poe's hands were shaking, too, and he took Finn's hand, trying to soothe the tensed muscles there. "Stay with me, sweetheart," Poe said, buckling the harness loosely over both of them.

Finn was pleasantly surprised to find that when he woke up, everything was numb. He could sort of feel the wound in his leg, but as a passing thought. His arm was wrapped against his chest, he thought, but other than that he couldn't feel it. He didn't even remember that he had broken ribs. His whole body still felt shaky and weak, but he wasn't cold anymore, and he was held comfortably against Poe's chest, a mask over his face making it infinitely easier to breathe.

Compared to when he'd fallen asleep, it was heaven. He blinked open his eyes and saw they were in hyperspace, which meant they'd left the base behind. It inexplicably broke his heart, the thought of the First Order overrunning the place, trampling or burning Rey’s garden, going through the things that had been left behind—he wondered if someone had thought to grab the musical instruments belonging to the pilots, or if they were also gone. "Poe?" he asked miserably, just to hear his voice.

Poe startled slightly, hearing Finn trying to speak. "Hey, hey, buddy," he said, arms going around him, loose but supportive. "Hey, you're supposed to rest for me," he said, kissing his cheek, touching his brow, holding his hand. "Love you, Finn. I love you."

Finn pressed his head back against Poe's collarbone, the only thing close to a hug that he could manage at the moment. "I'm resting," he said, words slurring together a little. Painkillers were _great_. "Not even—movin',” he said, taking careful breaths. “I love you too. 'M sorry we argued." If he wasn't cautious, he was going to end up saying every thought that crossed his mind, which...well, okay, wouldn't be a huge problem, probably. It wasn't like he was having particularly profound thoughts.

Poe gave a pained smile at his babbling and brushed a hand over Finn's hair, trying to relax him. "I'm sorry we argued, too, Finn. It's my fault, anyway, so you don't need to be sorry, please. You just rest, and know that your jackass of a boyfriend loves you, for whatever that's worth. Here, wait—" he said, reaching for the water. "Need you to drink for me." Poe pulled the mask away and held the water pouch to Finn's lips. "Come on, gotta get some fluids back in you, huh?" He kissed his cheek again. "Warm enough?"

"Yeah," Finn answered after he'd had his fill of the water. "You okay?" he asked, unsure what he was going to do about it if Poe wasn't alright—but he wanted to know anyway. "And...and the others? My troops? 'N your pilots? You okay?" he added again, unsure if he'd already asked this.

"Yeah, Finn. I think we got most everyone out safe. I'm—" He was about to say _I'm_ _fine_ , but he paused, actually considering the question, making an effort to turn over a new leaf. "I'm tired. Worried about you. Will be glad to get to our new home. But I'm not hurt. Just focused on taking care of you," he murmured. "Sorry it's not very comfortable like this. Maybe kinda cozy, though? You're not in any pain, are you? D-don't move!" he cried, as Finn went to test his limbs. " _Please_ , I just got your leg to stop bleeding."

Finn stopped moving and settled back against Poe. "I can't feel anything. Medkit had good painkillers," he said. It was going to hurt later, he was sure, especially his leg, but right now he was happy to be safe, if not sound. "Glad you're not hurt. I jumped out of a transport, you know," he said with a sleepy smile.

Poe's eyes widened. "Yes, I did hear something exciting happened, though I didn't get details. You jumped out of a transport, huh? Because it wasn't enough to be dating the bravest idiot in the Resistance but you have to try to out-do me?" he teased, holding him slightly closer, squeezing as much as he dared, and kissing Finn's neck. "Okay, I'm putting the mask back on, is that okay? You don't need to talk. Try to rest. I'll be right here, just holding you." Poe paused, and, a little self-consciously, asked, "W-would you like me to sing to you, maybe?"

"Yes, please," Finn said quietly. He glanced around for Poe's hand on his uninjured side and reached out to lace their fingers together loosely. Content, for the time being, he sighed as much as we has able and let himself drift, half-asleep almost before Poe even started singing.

Poe hummed gently, rubbing his thumb over Finn's hand as he found the key he wanted:

"Run away with me  
Lost souls in reverie  
Running wild and running free  
Two kids, you and me."

It was kind of romantic to be singing this song (usually sung around lanterns with all the other musicians) with just the two of them crowded into his X-Wing. He could feel his chest vibrating against Finn's chest, so warm against him. He wanted to scratch Finn's arm, but he was probably too out of it to appreciate it, and anyway he was squeezing his hand quite tightly.

"And I say  
Hey, hey hey hey  
Living like we're renegades  
Hey hey hey - hey hey hey  
Living like we're renegades  
Renegades, renegades..."

And he didn't mean to, Poe ought to have been up keeping an eye on Finn, but he was so tired and so relieved that when he finished singing he drifted off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MayGlenn here: I just read the comic Poe Dameron #3 and in it (spoiler alert) it's implied that Snap Wexley and Karé Kun used to be or are still an item? So we're ignoring that and sticking with Iolo/Karé (and past Iolo/Karé/Poe). Snap is still playing the field. I know this has nothing to do with the current chapter but it needed to be said. Please continue to scream at us in the comments about how brave Finn is and whether Poe's heroics should get him out of the doghouse yet ;)


	5. Chapter 5

Poe woke to BB-8's chirping. "Finn?" he started, but Finn was still breathing steadily and out cold (he was so still though that Poe checked his pulse to be sure). "Damn it. Why'd you let sleep, Bee?" he groaned.

[You needed it. Coming up on rendezvous point.]

"Great," Poe said, gingerly preparing to drop out of light speed without disturbing Finn. "Nk—Nuhll—how do you even say this planet?"

[Nkllon?] BB-8 said, unhelpfully, in Binary.

"Yes, I'll be sure to get the beeps and boops right," Poe told him sarcastically, and BB-8 honked rudely in reply.

"Okay, dropping out of hyperspace—now," Poe said, groaning at the strain. The human body didn't do well jumping in and out of hyperspace this often in the space of one day. Still, he wasn't as bad off as Finn, so he should stop complaining. "Hey, buddy, we're almost home," he whispered, kissing his neck. "Don't have to wake up, though, we're gonna take care of you from here."

As they coasted toward the planet, Poe winced. It definitely wasn't D'Qar, it was some shit mining planet that had zero attractions. Still, the First Order wouldn't look for them here. It was safe.

They already had ground crew set up, and someone waved him in, since the Coms were taking some time adapting to the soot-filled air. Still, the facilities looked good here—better than D'qar in a lot of ways—as long as you didn't go outside.

"Medic!" he was shouting, as soon as he popped the canopy. "I need a medic—oh," he said, as three med techs and three medidroids stared at him. 

"The General told us," a medic said, peeking into the cockpit. "We've got him, Commander," they said, lifting Finn from his arms with a collective effort.

"We got many wounded?" Poe asked. "Have all transports made it?"

"Dunno about transports, but yeah, we're pretty swamped. We can get Sergeant Finn in for surgery pretty quick, though. You want to follow?"

"Just try to stop me," Poe said, limping slightly as he disembarked and followed them, carrying Finn's unconscious form to wherever they had decided to put medical around here.

"Poe," said a voice, the only voice that could keep him from following after Finn.

"General, I'm _sorry_ —" Poe said, turning around.

"Dameron," Leia said, forestalling whatever apology Poe was about to voice. When his mouth snapped shut with a click and he looked even more alarmed, she realized he thought he was still in trouble—perhaps more trouble for telling his pilots to disobey her orders and get her away from D'Qar. " _Thank_ you," she told him, and gave him a hug.

Poe felt at once like the ground had gone out from under him and as though he were ten feet tall. He gave Leia, his General, a shaky and grateful smile.

Then she stepped back, once again his General, although she was smiling wryly. "Just a moment—you asked about transports. So far, we know all transports left the base and made it into the air. Several were hit by the first wave of TIE fighters, but made it safely away from the planet. We think it may have had something to do with Finn acting as a distraction. Not to mention your squadrons gave them a run for their money—and of course they didn't expect _you_ to land right on top of them like a bat out of hell." She smiled at Poe's blush and then turned serious. "Some transports were damaged, but we have sent repair vehicles and they are en route," she told him. "You and Finn—and all squadrons—did extremely well. You and Finn saved countless lives, and many of our supplies. I am proud of you both." She put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, then nodded toward medical, where Poe was no doubt itching to run, even if he'd stopped to talk to her. "Go take care of your boyfriend, Poe. If anyone needs you, I'll send Snap to find you."

"Thanks," he said, voice cracking slightly, and he wanted to kiss her but he had the sense not to do that.

Poe had just turned on his heels when a strange sight met him.

Jessika Pava. With a stormtrooper, sans helmet. Wrists in binders. Walking toward them. "We in the habit of taking prisoners now?" Poe wondered (and then thought, _wow, that was callous, shouldn’t we_ always _be taking prisoners, now that we know the truth about where stormtroopers come from_?), and as they got closer, he realized the kid couldn't have been more than sixteen.

"Apparently they're now using actual children to fight their wars," Jess said in disgust, and the kid looked briefly uncomfortable, like he was unsure if he was supposed to feel guilty for that. “He gave himself up, Dameron, what were we supposed to do?” And now the kid was staring in slightly slack-jawed wonder at Poe.

"You _are_ the one who helped him escape!" he squeaked. "I—uh—F-N—Finn, he threw me out of my AT-AA..."

"Which he then announced to everyone who had their com on his frequency, including Phasma, after which he proceeded to run to the nearest transport, hands in the air and helmet off. Apparently he demanded to be taken prisoner, if they didn't believe that he'd left," Jess added, trying to scowl and failing entirely. As if realizing he maybe hadn't planned this even half as well as Finn had once planned his escape, the kid wilted a little.

“You got a name?” Poe asked, trying to cheer him up.

"They called me Lucky... 'cause my numbers were 1313," he mumbled.

"But we've been calling him Deeks because his letters were DK," Jess announced, which made the kid—Deeks—grin.

“I like that one better.”

Poe huffed a laugh, hardly able to believe it. "So you're the one who almost got Finn killed..."

The kid's eyes grew wide and he recoiled. "N-no! I mean, I didn't mean to. I was just—and he—we thought he was a _myth_!"

Poe smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. "I'm _glad_ you let everyone know, Deeks, and I’m sure Finn is, too. About time the FO gets some counter-propaganda." He glanced down. "Jess, are the binders really necessary?" He was reminded uncomfortably of being brought on board the _Finalizer_ in handcuffs.  

"I don't mind. I know you can't afford to trust me," Deeks said, and shrugged. Jess looked at Poe and raised her eyebrows in a silent 'can you believe this kid?'

"Since we couldn't raise you, Statura, or the General, we voted and decided he could wear them until the General talks to him. I hoped I could catch her while she was standing here talking to you," she said, and Deeks' eyes went wide again. "Yes, that was _the_ General Organa," Jess said dryly, having had similar conversations to this effect about ten times already, since the transport he'd been on had all but dumped him into her hands.

"Aw, Jess, I didn't know you were so great with kids," Poe said, punching her lightly in the arm, though at the dark flash to the kid's eyes, Poe corrected himself. "I mean, young adults, of course? Young trooper—cadet—people." He coughed. "So you want to be called Deeks, huh?" he asked, leading the kid and Jess in the direction the General went. "You know we could get him some food, too, if the General's not—General! General—I know you're busy, ma’am, sorry to interrupt, but—"

Leia all but rolled her eyes at him. " _Another_ one, Poe?"

Poe blinked. Maybe this was becoming a habit. "W-well, I mean, to be fair, Jess found this one—"

"Oh don't pin this on me, Dameron!" Jessika laughed.

Poe continued as though he hadn't heard: "This is the kid—trooper—whose AT-AA Finn commandeered, isn't that right? And it turns out Finn is quite the underground hero in the First Order..." He motioned for Deeks to talk.

"I didn't mean to get him targeted, General Organa, but we all thought he didn't really exist. They told us you made him up as propaganda," Deeks explained, shrinking a little under the combined attention of two pilots and General Organa. "Defecting was a...opportunistic decision," he added, but then straightened his shoulders and grew serious. "But I'm not sorry I made it. There will be more like me..." Especially after he'd shouted to everyone that Finn was real.

The General looked impressed, and Poe and Jess were grinning. "Who put these cuffs on him?" Leia said, looking around, and a guard came up and released him.

Poe let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding.

"I want an...escort for him. Connix? Find someone about his age, please."

"Right. Sure. With all the other work I have to—yes, General, ma'am, right away. Come on," she told the young trooper, who followed her immediately. 

"Poe. I thought I told you to go see Finn. Do I need to order you into bed, too?" she asked, and Poe couldn't resist:

"Oh, General, I'm flattered!"

Leia rolled her eyes. "Flyboys. Get out, go. Jessika, make sure he gets where he needs to go, please. That's an order."

...

Dr. Kalonia had guessed that one way or another, either Poe Dameron or Finn were going to end up in medical. There was no possible way that _both_ of them could avoid trouble while evacuating Base and dealing with the First Order. It went against every law of—of the galaxy.

So she was not precisely surprised when they brought Finn in, looking like death warmed over (or just death, he looked terrible), with a broken arm, broken ribs, and a truly spectacular leg injury.  Of all her wounded, he was the worst, and so he had the distinction of being bumped to the top of the list so he could be rushed into surgery to do something about his leg before he lost what blood he had left.

Dr. Kalonia was not going to admit that she was secretly grateful that she wasn't having to also deal with a distraught Poe Dameron on top of this, but...okay, yes, she was going to admit that. Absolutely. She patched Finn up as best she could and gave him a transfusion to make up for lost blood, and accompanied him, still completely out, to a more comfortable bed than the gurney they'd used to transport him. And of course, as soon as she pushed open the door to take him through the waiting room (currently full) to a recovery room, Dameron was standing there.

Waiting.

She sighed internally and slowed, giving him a very patient smile. "He's alright, it's just the anesthesia. He'll wake up...soon, I would think, now that we've replaced some more of that blood he lost."

Poe's hard gaze melted at the sight of Finn, and he rushed to him, touching him to make sure he was real. His clothes were gone and his ribs were wrapped, and his arm was in a hard cast. There were thick bacta bandages covering his thigh, and bruises stood out against his skin. "Is the leg going to heal all right?" he asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft. He knew Dr. Kalonia had a lot of patients to get to, and he also didn't want to upset her in case she mentioned that they hadn't had their usual meetings in two weeks... "Can I stay here?"

"Yes, it will, and yes, you may, on one condition," she said, and then corrected herself. "Two conditions—first, you clean up, because those sheets are clean and you are...not. Second, you stop skipping meetings, even if the General has you working doubles because you disobeyed a direct order." She was sure he hadn't _actually_ thought she wouldn't notice, and he'd probably be disappointed if she didn't say anything, since he probably expected she would, even if he hoped she wouldn't. "I'll be giving your boyfriend the same lecture when he wakes up, don't worry," she added, lest Poe think Finn was going to get out of also skipping meetings without being scolded.

Poe nodded, weary and willing to do anything just to be allowed to curl up with Finn and—and she was right. "I will. I'm—I’m sorry," he said, lamely. "Thank you. For—taking care of him." He looked around, wanting to get clean and come back as soon as possible, before Finn woke up. "Er—refreshers?"

She pointed. He'd have to use the communal ones since it was unlikely his own was installed yet. He didn't even care who saw him or if he had to use standard issue soap, and even though the shower felt heavenly he didn't spend long and put on his last clean pair of underwear, shorts, and shirt from his go-bag. He stood there in his bare feet and popped a salute to Dr. Kalonia. "Do I pass muster this time?" he asked, grinning softly.

Dr. Kalonia looked him over and nodded. “Three conditions. I’m going to go out on a limb and assume it’s been a while since you last slept, but if you could take these and wind bandages until you collapse from exhaustion, I’d appreciate it. We’re having to ration bacta strips for a time, so—” She nodded at a crate, and Poe took it, glad to be able to help. With it, he ducked past and slipped behind the curtain to where Finn's bed had a little bit of privacy.

"Hey, love. Looking good," he whispered, sitting down heavily beside Finn, and for a moment doing nothing but staring at his boyfriend. But Finn seemed pretty out of it, so Poe got to work on his task. He remembered enough from his medical rotation at the academy to do a good job on the bandages, keeping everything sanitary and military, and worked himself methodically into exhaustion. He was surprised when a droid came in—he had nodded off after finishing his task—and reviewed his work before taking the crate.

Finn was still sleeping, or heavily sedated. He looked like hell, but Poe had never been more glad to see him. “Missed you,” he said, getting to his feet. Leaning heavily on the bed, Poe scouted out where there were tubes and bandages, deciding that entry from the right side of the bed would be more strategic. "Okay, I'm just gonna nudge you over—slightly—so I can lie down. Yeah," Poe said, continuing to talk, in case Finn could hear him. Poe was hungry, and someone was probably going to yell at him for skipping another meal, but he was just so tired and he didn't want to be anywhere but by Finn's side.

As he stared at Finn's unconscious form, he had time to think, and he felt his chest tighten like he was going to cry. It was nothing, and yet it was everything. He had almost lost Finn, he had almost lost the entire fucking Resistance while he was on what was allegedly the dangerous mission. He had hurt Finn before he left, and Finn still loved him. He had disappointed Leia but now she was happy with him again. Poe was just so tired and he missed Rey and gods it really did seem like he was trying to run himself into the ground on purpose, didn't he? Soon Poe was crying, silently, head in his hands.

He managed to stop before anyone found him, and he crawled into the bed with Finn, gently, carefully curling around him. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, and closed his eyes.

Finn was dimly aware of someone curling up next to and around him, and reasoned that it could only be Poe. He was still mostly incoherent from the combined anesthesia and painkillers and less blood than usual, but he was desperate to get as close to Poe's warmth as he could. He managed an uncoordinated sort of twitch rather than anything constructive, and settled for shifting his shoulders the tiniest amount so he felt pressed closer to Poe's chest. Since he wasn't actually tired, he just lay there, feeling Poe's breaths, trying to tell if he was asleep or not.

Feeling Finn shift, Poe curled closer, the bandages now making clearly what was okay to touch. "Hey, buddy," he whispered. "I'm here, I got you. All safe and sound. Dr K. gave you the good stuff.” He pulled back, meeting Finn’s blinking but unfocused gaze, and he smiled and kissed his brow right between his eyes. “You just rest for me, sweetheart. I'm gonna sleep, too." And sure enough his eyelids were heavy, the only thing keeping him awake the ecstasy of watching Finn be alive. "I love you and I'm sorry. Sorry I don't—I’m gonna take better care of myself—and you. Gonna take better care of _us_ ,” he decided. “I love you, Finn, and I'll say this all again when you're more awake but I owe you more trust than I've been giving you and I'm sorry. Gonna do better. Love you. I'm sorry. Love you." Poe continued whispering softly into Finn's ear until he fell asleep there, tears still tracking down his cheeks.

With Poe whispering in his ear, Finn fell back to sleep, too.


	6. Chapter 6

Finn woke up later, mostly because he was hungry, and found that he'd rolled over to his side and tucked himself under Poe's chin, his broken arm resting across his side. Every little ache and pain that he hadn't felt earlier was vying for his attention—apparently the painkillers were wearing off. Poe was still completely out, and Finn smiled softly, resisting the urge to kiss him only because he wanted him to sleep as long as possible. Instead of trying to move, he nestled back against Poe's chest and let his mind wander, cataloging the smaller injuries he hadn't noticed earlier—bumps and bruises, mostly, and a few cuts not even bad enough to warrant a bandage. But overall, he was whole, and if he had nothing more than what had made it onto a transport, he at least had his locket, and he had Poe and BB-8, the two most important things.

Poe jerked awake with a confused snuffle, disoriented for a total of three seconds before it all came back to him. "Finn?" he murmured, careful not to jostle his bedmate. "How you feelin', buddy?" he asked and then squinted. "You _moved_ ," he said, slightly accusing, mostly because he had been too fast asleep to witness it.

"But not far," Finn answered, still curled close to Poe's chest. "I didn't mean to wake you—you’re very handsome when you're asleep...you should try it more often," he said, and pulled back just far enough to look at Poe and grin. "I'm still tired. But I'm tired of sleeping."

Poe bit his lip and lifted himself up on one elbow, his palm sliding across Finn's side. "Good, me too," he said, wanting to lean forward and kiss Finn, but he wasn't sure that would be welcome. Chest aching at that, he smiled: "But I'll make sure to let you watch me sleep again soon," he promised, and then, in the silence that followed where he tried to pretend everything was fine, his face crumpled:

"Oh, Finn, may I kiss you, please?" he whispered, voice keyed high, whining like a dog, but _Maker_ , he couldn't lose Finn. He'd almost _lost_ Finn, and a week before that he'd been such a jackass he—he still _might_ lose Finn. "I-I'm sorry, please, I'm sorry, Finn, I'm so sorry about everything, everything I said—but, but it can wait, y-you should rest, kriff, I'm an idiot—just—I know that it doesn't have to—I know you said you weren't mad, but in life or death situations, it's different. You can still be mad at me, Finn, j-just let me—let me be here for you, please? Let me—I'm here for whatever you want me for. We can talk later. Y-you don't have to let me kiss you," he added, too brave or too stupid. The ache in his chest was physically painful, and he couldn't hate himself more, which made it easier to beg: “Just don’t make me leave.”

"Poe—" Finn started, trying to calm his suddenly panicky boyfriend. "Poe, stop. Force damn it, _Poe_! Just kiss me," he said, "I'm _not mad_. I want to talk, but later, when I'm...feeling better. I'm not mad anymore. I missed you," he said. He tried to pull Poe closer, but that didn't work, since he could barely grasp anything with the hand he had over Poe's side.

Poe shook his head faintly as his brain caught up with Finn's words, like he couldn't believe them. "You _should_ be mad at me," he whispered, and then cupped Finn's cheek. "But—I'm glad you're not. For my sake, not yours, but—" He surged forward then, and kissed Finn, softly, passionately, worshipfully. "Oh, Finn," he whimpered, kissing him again, sliding a hand behind his head and placing a hand on Finn's hip to ease him onto his back. "I missed you, too. I couldn't stop thinking about you, missing your touch, your smile, your kindness and warmth and your brains, Finn, thinking I might—thinking I might have screwed it up. You're too good to me," he said, kissing him again, hands brushing over his neck, his shoulders, chest, sides. 

Finn let Poe move him where he wanted him, absolutely content to be pushed onto his back (it was more comfortable for his ribs anyway) and trusting that Poe would be careful of his various injuries. He wasn't much help, really, but he could kiss Poe, so he did that instead. "It takes two to argue," he said, "I thought—I thought you weren't coming back, and the bed was too big, and I hated it, and I'm sorry," he said in return. "And I'm sorry I threatened to go over your head when I knew it'd only make you mad and wouldn't at all stop you," he added. Poe was still close enough to hug him to him, and Finn did so, unprepared for apologizing to remind him of just how much of his heart Poe kept. "We needed to _talk_ , was all. We still need to talk, but..." But he was so afraid they'd argue again. He shivered and closed his eyes as he rested his forehead against Poe's collarbone. "But I'm—" he wasn't sure he could admit he was afraid, "I'm tired, and I don't want it to accidentally turn into an argument."

Poe gulped, tears welling in his eyes. "It won't. It _won't_ ," Poe said, kissing Finn's shoulder as he squeezed him in as tight an embrace as he dared. "Not gonna fight you, I promise, Finn. I'm an idiot, it was my fault, you just rest easy, okay?" He took a deep breath and drew back so he could watch Finn's eyes, fingertips brushing across his face and hair in an attempt to bring comfort to both of them. "I'm sorry for not trusting you. You deserve better from me, and none of this was your fault." Poe pressed his lips together and looked around. "You need some water or anything, bud?"

"Some of it was my fault," Finn said softly, but without much force, not wanting _that_ to turn into an argument. He followed Poe's gaze around the room and then curled closer to Poe. "Hmmm. More kisses?" he asked with a shy smile. He wasn't ready to let him go just yet, although he'd have to soon. He was hungry, and thirsty, and the more serious of his injuries had gone from merely present to distracting.

Poe let out a huff of laughter. "Anything you want, Finn," he said, kissing him softly and then deepening the kiss. "You know we'll both taste better after we eat something," he said after a moment, sitting up and grabbing a cup of water off the table and helping Finn drink before taking a swig himself. "And yeah, okay, it takes two to fight, but Finn, I was being bitchy when I told you to...it was mean and therefore untrue to tell you you needed to—to grow up—of _course_ you got mad at me!"

"And how would you define threatening to go to the General?" Finn asked dryly. "Because clearly, telling you that you _couldn't_ do something was _ever_ going to defuse a situation."

"I—" Poe said, and then gave Finn a brilliant smile, and a kiss. "Okay, we're both idiots, then," he said warmly. "And you _are_ an adult, Finn, and that means you're allowed to make your own mistakes, and if one of those mistakes is named Poe Dameron, then—"

Finn laughed at that and inched up the bed a little bit, trying to find a comfortable way to sit. "Please remind me never to break ribs again."

"Ugh, ribs are the worst," Poe agreed, and helped prop pillows behind Finn to help him sit up. "Though you were _also_ impaled, so, it's a hard call." He kissed Finn again. "Want me to grab us some protein shakes?"

"Right, remind me to never do that again either. That was—" there were no words adequate for describing that. He shuddered instead and leaned back against the pillows, which took some of the pressure off his ribs. "As long as they aren't...whatever flavor that I hate," he said with a short laugh, "Oof, ow," he added when his ribs protested.

"Moonberry. Hey, easy," Poe said. "Stop moving, let me help you, buddy, please. For me." He swung down from the bed and surrounded Finn with pillows before looking around. "Bet you could do with some more painkillers too, hang on," he said, kissing Finn again before ducking behind the curtain. "Whoa!" He said, backpedaling as a Droid bustled in bearing a tray.

"Meal and medication for Sergeant Finn, and meal for Commander Dameron," it said, setting a sizeable amount of food down. "Dr. Kalonia hopes you will consume everything so she does not need to see to your nutritional requirements another way."

That sounded vaguely threatening, and Poe laughed nervously.

"...I guess we should eat, then," Finn said when the droid had left. "What is all that? I thought we'd be eating rations and protein shakes for a week, at least." The food even looked hot, which was a further surprise. Finn sat forward slightly to see the food better, the movement worth it to catch a scent of the fresh food.

"Hey, _stop_ moving, please, Finn," Poe said, brow knitting as he slid the tray onto Finn's lap and propped him up with one pillow. "Can you eat with your left hand or you want my help?" he asked, pressing the pills to Finn's lips and helping him with the water. "Oh Maker it smells so good. Is that stew? How does catering do this? We just got to this shitty planet where we can't grow anything!" He beamed at Finn, tangling their fingers together as he sat beside him to eat.

Finn sniffed the food and nodded. "Yeah, it's stew. Where did it come from? Do they have a Force user on the kitchen crew?" Finn asked. He couldn't exactly dig in, given that Poe was holding his good hand and he'd probably make a mess if he tried with the broken arm. "Um—may I have my hand back, please?" He smiled and brought Poe's hand to his mouth so he could press a kiss to his knuckles.

Poe gave Finn a wry smile. "Here I was hoping you'd let me feed you," he said, but released his hold, and they ate in silence for a few minutes, as they realized at once how hungry they both were. Surprisingly, Poe and Finn finished around the same time. "I could go for another bowl, that was good." He removed the tray and took Finn's hands again. "Painkillers helping yet?" he asked wistfully.

"Mmmmmaybe?" Finn asked, blinking slowly. The medicine was making him drowsy, though not yet so drowsy he wanted to sleep. "Def'nitely yes," he commented, but was very determined to stay awake, and looked at Poe with a content, slight smile. "But I'm not tired."

"Hey, that's fine. You don't need to sleep, you just need to rest," Poe said, though that probably wasn't true, and once their bed was cleared of foodstuffs he settled down beside Finn, joining him among the pillows and getting both arms wrapped around him again. "You don't mind if I'm a little tired, do you?" he said, rubbing Finn's good arm, checking for cuts and bruises in his path before using his fingernails on the inside of his forearm. "I'm so lucky to have you, Finn," he whispered against his neck as he curled close. "So lucky, so grateful." He paused. "You mean the world to me and I'm going to do better by you. I promise."

"Then I promise, too. I love you," he said and subtly turned his arm so it was easier for Poe to scratch along the inside. "You should sleep, if you're tired," he suggested, "But—could I—can you help me shift down?" he asked. What he really wanted was to put his head on Poe's chest and, if he fell asleep, to fall asleep listening to his heartbeat. He might have been familiar with the sound by now, but that made it all the more comforting.

"Y-yeah," Poe said, trying to help Finn move how he wanted, taking a moment to realize that Finn wanted to be curled around him with his head against his chest. Eventually they got it sorted, and Finn relaxed, and Poe kissed his brow, returning to scratching his arm. "Comfy?" he whispered, rubbing his shoulder. "Ribs okay like this?"

"Can't really feel 'em, so they're fine," Finn murmured, "Very comfy." He shifted about until he was settled as close to Poe as he possibly could be, pressed against his side and partially across his chest. "Am I going to smush you?" he asked.

"Course not," Poe said, scratching Finn's shoulder softly, too, once he discovered a smooth patch where he could do so without hurting Finn. "Feels great. After the week I had—the week we had—Finn, I missed you so much. I was so desperate to see you, I'd have been grateful if you stepped on my face." He grinned, kissing Finn's hair, continuing to lightly scratch his arms. "Love you, buddy. Sleep good," he said, and then chuckled, because Finn was already asleep.

…

"You still need your leg elevated, you're not supposed to stand up, and you kinda smell, sweetheart, so we're going to the only bathtub on the Resistance base," Poe said, pushing Finn's hoverchair toward the officer's quarters. He had pulled a few strings to get them access, and by that he meant he had begged the General for the use of her quarters for a Perfectly Innocent Bath after which he promised he would scrub every surface in her entire bathroom. And he would pick up some paperwork for her. ("And breakfast in bed?" she had said, to which he replied, "Would you not _tease_ me, woman? Er. General, sir? Ma'am? Maker damn it." She had smiled at his fluster: "I was joking, Poe. I work late tonight so you can borrow it then." Then she had written down the code and told him she would change the code tomorrow, but months later Poe realized she never actually did.) "You've probably never had a bath before. It's gonna feel great, you'll see."

"I've been swimming, which is basically the same thing, right?" Finn asked. He was inclined to grumble—his leg hurt, and so did his ribs. His arm didn't, but the hard cast was itchy and it was irritating. As a result, he had no patience for anything, including hoverchairs, baths, and existence in general. He was doing his level best to not take it out on Poe, but was probably only half succeeding. "I'm grouchy," he admitted with a long sigh.

Poe waited until they rounded a corner to duck down and kiss Finn's cheek. "You can be as grouchy as you want," he said. "You're in pain and stuck in bed and I still deserve it if you want to make me suffer a little." He grinned and punched the code on the General's door. "Here we go," he said, sucking in a breath and feeling like he was about to enter hallowed ground.

It was actually kind of a let down. Poe had expected the space to be more palatial, he supposed, but it was sparse. She really had given her life to this Resistance. There were a few touches that seemed personal, and embarrassed Poe to see: some family pictures, of her parents, of Han and Ben, of Luke; her sheets were silk and a faded red; there were shoes tossed a bit casually under a vanity. "I'm so embarrassed right now," he admitted. "Don't touch anything," he said, mostly to himself.

"Wait—" Finn said as they entered the room and he got a look at the pictures. "Wait, this is the General's room. She gave you her code?" he asked, surprised. "It's about as clean as ours, if there was only one of us," he said with a crooked grin. It was endearing, in a way, and kind of hilarious.

"Yeah, only because it's for you, I'm sure," Poe said, rubbing Finn's shoulder, and he laughed. "It's about as clean as if you lived there without me," he replied, and pushed Finn's chair into the bathroom. Now _this_ was positively decadent compared to his own refresher. The tub wasn't huge but it was wide and deep, and it was possibly Durosian marble. "Wow," he said, pulling the caddy with soap and towels off the back of the chair but mostly taking a moment to observe.

"I thought _our_ bathroom was nice," Finn said. He was pretty sure he'd never even _seen_ a bathtub, but this one certainly looked grand. "Okay, standing up now," he said, because while he was willing to sit in the chair and be pushed around on the condition this meant he could leave Medical for an hour, he was not staying in the hoverchair for one more minute than he really had to.

"Finn," Poe said, slightly exasperated as Finn all but jumped to his feet. "You nearly died on me four days ago, please, and you're not supposed to stand," he said, supporting Finn carefully. "May I help you undress?" He asked, stealing a kiss as he turned the water on one-handed.

Finn let Poe hold him up, since he seemed to insist on it, but turned it into a sort of clinging hug. "I suppose you could," he said, because if he wanted to stand he was absolutely not going to be able to get his clothes off on his own. He really couldn't put weight on his bad leg, not if he expected to have any balance while he did it.

"And may I kiss you while I do?" Poe said, breath hot on Finn's neck, hiking his shirt up while still hugging him. He chuckled. There was something thrilling about this, like the possibility of getting caught. He eased Finn's shirt off of one arm and down the other, laying it on the chair. "Okay, pants. I'll try not to get distracted," he teased. "Lean on me?"

Finn melted just a little against Poe and nuzzled his cheek before kissing him. "Don't lose your balance," he said, and shifted so he was more leaning on Poe and less clinging to him. "What happens if you leave the water running? Does it overflow, or does something stop the water before that?" he asked, looking at the tub as it filled.

"Uhh," Poe said, briefly distracted as he slid to his knees to help Finn step out of his shorts. But he managed to get by only kissing his hip before glancing at the bath. "Yeah, there's that drain at the top, but I wouldn't test it. You'd probably end up with water on the floor. Which we don't want." He tested the temperature before looking at Finn, trying to determine the best way to do this. "You want to let me lift you?"

"I'm not sure 'want' really enters into it, if I'm supposed to get in that somehow," Finn answered. In short, no, he didn't really want to let Poe lift him, because he wanted to do it himself—but if he was able to do that, taking a bath wouldn't be the only option. (What he _wanted_ was for Poe to stay on his knees and put his mouth to use, only this was absolutely not the time or place.) He'd fumbled the wrap from around his ribs while Poe had helped him with his underwear, so at least that wouldn't get soaked.

Finn was heavy but Poe was stronger than he looked, and he more leaned Finn against him than lifted him until he was standing and then, more carefully—sprawling across the tub himself—Poe lowered Finn back until he was sitting in the water. "There. Hell of a lot easier than pulling you out of that AT-AA, and ten times more fun," he said, panting only a little. "All right?" Poe asked.

Finn hadn't really been in a position to judge Poe's strength last time he'd lifted him, but he was this time. Maybe Poe wasn't as strong as him, but he wasn't weak, either, and the care he took to lower him gently into the water made Finn want to drag him in, too. He was distracted so thoroughly by the idea of kissing Poe absolutely senseless that he almost missed his question. "Yeah. Feels really good," he answered, because the warmth on his sore ribs was already unknotting some of the muscles. He could feel them twitch as they released.

Poe beamed, tossing hair out of his face, since his arms were still around Finn, holding him up. "Just wait," he said, squeezing soap near the he spout so that bubbles began forming and spreading up over Finn's leg. "Here, let's slide you down a bit more, relax your back," he said, helping Finn to bend his leg so he could lie almost flat. It looked a bit awkward with his injured leg sticking out straight, but a Poe couldn't be more in love with the look of relief on Finn's face, especially when the bubbles got to his face and started enveloping him.

Finn took a deep breath and sighed, feeling only a fraction of the sore twinge from his ribs and through his back that he'd felt before. He grinned as the soap bubbles started swallowing him, tickling the side of his face and catching in his short, probably scruffy hair. "Thank you," Finn said, pushing himself up on an elbow to kiss Poe.

"Hey stop that," Poe said, though he flushed. "Let me come to you," he said, tucking one arm behind Finn's neck to support his head and leaning in to kiss him. "You're so beautiful," he whispered. "Could watch you just lie here like this all night," Poe said, and it was the truth. He kissed him again. 

"But what'm I supposed to _do_?" Finn asked, "Just...sit here?" Not that he was really sitting, so much as half floating, half laying in the water. "Is there soap?" he asked, remembering one of the justifications of this whole "bath" thing was to get clean without having to stand up and risk putting weight on his injured leg.

"Yeah, I'll wash you in a minute," Poe murmured, halfway in the tub himself as he held Finn's head out of the water, providing his arm as something more comfortable to lean against. He played with the bubbles, swirling the suds around, shifting the parts of Finn he could see under the water. Then he realized Finn's question meant slightly more than that. "Yeah, best part of a bath is just getting to soak. Just relax." He kissed Finn's brow, and then his lips, chastely. "This an okay position? Let me know if you want to move."

"...Oh," Finn said, but he could absolutely get on board with this. The bath was pleasantly hot and the bubbles were hypnotizing to watch as Poe moved them around, and he had Poe's arm to lean on. "One of us should probably make General or something equivalent, just for this," he said.

Poe laughed. "That's you, then, buddy," he said. "I do enough paperwork, thanks. You think all my backsassing is just to be cute? No, it's part of a long plot to get demoted back to Captain so all I have to worry about is flying," he joked, though of course that wasn't true: Poe was glad he led everyone, not just one squadron—he cared too much and was too much of a control freak to not lead the entire squadron—though the paperwork was a bore. He shifted, trying to get comfortable himself, and soon settled with his nose buried in Finn's hair with a sigh. "Love you."

"Love you too—is that actually comfortable for you?" Finn asked as Poe fidgeted around and then settled at what appeared to be a very awkward angle. "We could just wait, then... Eventually we won't be living on a mobile Resistance base, right?" he asked, eyes half-closed.

Poe sucked in a breath. Maybe Finn hadn't meant it like that, or maybe Poe shouldn't read too much into it, but that sounded very much like Finn saying he wanted to spend the rest of his life with him. "Yeah, hopefully someday, buddy," he said, throat tight. "When this war's over. We'll live in a house someplace with a big tub, big enough for you and me and Rey to all get in at the same time. How's that sound?" He smiled and kissed Finn's ear. "But I still think you'd make a damn good General. Mm, General Finn, I like the sound of that."

"But you said there's too much paperwork involved..." Finn said. He loved paperwork about as much as the next person: not at all. "Guess I could worry about it later," he added, then sighed a contented sigh and grinned as it sent a little puff of bubbles scudding across the water.

"Oh there is, I just figured you're less of a child about it than I am," Poe teased, and blew the bubbles back into Finn's face, laughing as he scrunched his face up. "Okay, okay, soaking part officially over. I need to get you cleaned up." Poe reached for the washcloth and soap he had brought.

"You know, I _could_ clean myself up," Finn commented, then smiled and added, "Not that I want to. But I _could_." It probably wouldn't feel great if he tried to do it himself, between sitting up and twisting and all the moving, and he was content to let Poe do the hard work, this time. Plus, it would probably mean the odd arm scratch or gentle brush of fingers along his skin, because he doubted Poe could resist—kind of hoped he couldn't resist, really. He knew he was being a bit clingy, but he'd been trapped and in very real danger of dying in an AT-AA, even if he was well on his way to healing. Probably he could be forgiven for wanting that little bit of physical contact, right?

"And deny me the opportunity to cover you in soap suds and wash them off again? Next thing you're going to deny me sex, or air," Poe laughed. It was ironic, since they hadn't been intimate in going on three weeks now, and while that might at one time have been _intolerable_ for Poe, it actually didn't bother him. They had been intimate in other ways, of course, like Finn allowing Poe to bathe him, and for the first time in possibly his entire life that was enough for Poe. He soaped up the washcloth and started with Finn's face and hair before moving down his body. "Love when you let me touch you," he murmured.

Finn laughed, leaning into Poe's touch like a cat. "Mmmmmm, me too," he answered, eyes fluttering closed briefly. He opened them after Poe was done washing his face. "Thank you, for this. I love you," Finn said quietly.

"Next time let's do it when one of us isn't sporting some broken bones, huh?" Poe huffed, washing under Finn's arms and over his chest, and taking a break to run his fingernails over his skin, not just his arms but his sides and shoulders and belly, which made Finn laugh. "You know you don't have to perform heroics and almost get yourself killed to impress me. Or to get me into the bath with you. You could just ask." He gazed into Finn's eyes besottedly. "May I kiss you, Finn?"

"Yes please," Finn responded, grin still bright from Poe tickling him. "I...um, I promise that wasn't my _main_ goal? I think my goal was mostly to get them back for destroying our home, and for shooting at transports while we were trying to leave," he admitted, a little embarrassed. Clearly, he'd overreacted slightly, but he'd distracted them into letting some of the transports get away, so at least he hadn't been entirely foolish.

“You helped a lot of people get out alive," Poe said, kissing Finn on the lips and cheeks and neck. "And as much as I hate it, you drew a lot of fire. And you didn't die, which I would have been very upset about." Poe laughed darkly. "Upset. I would have—” _flown into the_   _sun_ “never mind. Anyway, I'm proud of you. I love you, and hey, it's the job. You're so fucking brave. I love you so much, Finn." He kissed Finn as he continued washing him, only breaking the kiss as he had to pull back to wash Finn's legs.

Finn was quiet, a little embarrassed by all the praise. It was his job, and he wanted to do it well. Besides that, as he'd told Poe, the Resistance had become the home he'd never had in the First Order, and he'd protect it with his life. He'd rather not have to, but if it came to that, he hoped Poe would understand—and it was something he was absolutely not discussing now. He pulled himself forward just enough to reach for one of Poe's hands, instead.

"I love you," Poe whispered again, relinquishing his hand to Finn to hold and now settling back to watch Finn from the other end of the bath, scratching his nails over Finn's legs.

"I love _you_ ," Finn responded, equally quietly, and let the soft sound of the water lapping at the side of the tub fill the space between them, enjoying the comfortable silence.

"How's the water? Want me to heat it up again? Or you want out?"

Finn glanced up from watching bubbles pop when Poe spoke again. "It's good. It's making me sleepy, though," he said, and then stifled a yawn. "Could go back and sleep," he suggested.

"Yeah," Poe said, "I'll take you back to bed." He leaned in and kissed Finn's knee. "Let's get you out of there, get you dried, and back to medical." He drained the bath and slid in the bath to get his arms around Finn, awkwardly, but he managed to lift him without trouble. Finn was boneless, and Poe had to sit him on the edge of the bath to dry him and dress him in a robe, before shifting him gently into the hoverchair. "There," he said, panting slightly and kissing Finn's nose. "Easy peasy."

By the time they got back to medical, Finn was yawning in earnest, relaxed and sleepy and really warm in the robe he was wearing (though he was glad no one had seen them on their way back to medical, because that would have been mortifying). Because he could, he stood on his own, leaning all of his weight on his good leg and using the bed for balance, but then decided that was too much effort and sat on the bed instead.

"Okay let me just find you some—Finn!" Poe hissed in exasperation, watching as Finn all but collapsed onto the bed and obviously pulled his ribs unpleasantly. "Okay, fine, we can go straight to bed," Poe said, and, not taking Finn's sleepy fussing for an answer, he wrapped him in a cozy blanket he brought from _Black One_ and lifted his feet up onto the bed. Then he covered Finn in another blanket and confiscated every available pillow to prop him up comfortably. "There, how's that?" he asked, admiring his work a little.

Finn wanted to object to being fussed over like he was far worse off than a few broken ribs, a broken arm, and his healing leg would imply, but Poe really left very little room for argument. Also he liked it. He gave it a half-hearted attempt so he could reassure himself that he'd tried and then gave himself permission to enjoy being wrapped in blankets and nestled in what seemed to be every unused pillow in medical. "It's um—where did you find all of these pillows?" he asked, a little surprised Kalonia hadn't shown up to scold them yet. Just to reduce the likelihood that she'd take them back, he fidgeted until he was very comfortably occupying half of the pillow pile and grinned innocently at Poe.

Poe brushed a hand over Finn's brow, and he about died when Finn leaned against his hand. "I have my ways," he said, in an attempt to sound cooler than rummaging through cupboards and knicking them off vacant beds was. "Permission to come aboard?" he said, as BB-8 rolled up, whistling. "Oh hey, Bee? How'd that update go on _Black One_?" Which was where they both had been all morning while Finn was sleeping.

BB-8 said the installation was successful and Poe patted him gratefully before crawling in beside Finn. [You mean I don't have to nag you to go to sleep this time?] BB-8 wondered, sounding shocked and a little bit teasing.

Poe motioned to Finn. "Have you seen how cute he is? You can _try_ to keep me out of this bed."

"I'm not _trying_ to be cute," Finn whined, even as he automatically curled closer to Poe, snuggling up to his side and resting his head on his chest. "I commandeered an AT-AA and used it to attack the First Order... That has to be the exact opposite of cute," he added, and yawned. “I’m a badass,” he said sleepily.

Poe barked out a laugh that was too loud for medical. “Yeah, you are. But you’re also cute.” He tucked an arm behind Finn and wrapped the other around him, and curled his leg around Finn's ankles, effectively pinning him against him but without putting pressure on any of his injuries. He cupped Finn's face to guide him into a kiss. "Go on, go to sleep, cutie," he said, definitely trying to annoy his boyfriend now, but couldn't manage it with a straight face. "I know you're gonna kick my ass for this later, but I'm going to _enjoy_ it until then." He kissed Finn's nose and cheek again playfully.

"You're lucky I'm tired and injured..." Finn rumbled as Poe kissed his nose and his cheek. He did not, however, make any attempt to disentangle himself. Instead, he sighed deeply and closed his eyes. "Gonna get your butt kicked, flyboy," he added.

Poe nosed against Finn's neck, pressing a wet kiss behind his ear: " _Hot_ ," he whispered, and then pulled back and laughed at himself and at the slight flush in Finn's cheeks.

"You're annoying," Finn told him.

"Mm, but you love me," Poe replied, and stretched slightly, exhaustion sweeping over him. "Love you," he murmured as he closed his eyes. "Let me know if you need anything."

"Just need you," Finn said, fully aware that this went completely counter to his insistence that he wasn't cute. "Not a word," he added warningly, and went to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

Since he'd lost no small amount of blood, and because the wound to his leg had involved a large piece of metal, Kalonia kept Finn for a whole week. And because Poe had to go back on duty, Finn spent much of his time bored out of his mind once he'd finally had enough of sleeping. Jess visited, though, with a surprising and familiar face that Finn recognized from when he'd chucked the kid out of the AT-AA. And of course, there were others nearby who had been wounded, and sometimes he contrived to get up and crutch around for a limited amount of time to talk to them. Kalonia was also unsettlingly good at catching him when he was about to go completely stir-crazy, so he'd made up some of his missed meeting with her _and_ finally managed to keep an appointment for one.

They talked about the utility of dealing with problems rather than ignoring them to make them go away, and about the argument he'd had with Poe. Finn learned that he still became frustrated very quickly when he couldn't explain a feeling or a thought, and they worked on that sometimes as well.

But mostly, by the time his week was up, he was ready to be out of medical and anywhere else—even if he wasn't sure where else there was. Poe hadn't mentioned their old room and everything that had been left behind, and Finn didn't ask.

Poe slept all week in medical, when he wasn't on normal rotations (a few short patrols, but mostly working repairs to get the ships and equipment adapted to this shitty dustbowl of a mining planet _ugh_ ). He even had a meeting with Dr. Kalonia that he was on time for, and since no one else was doing it, she scolded him for having lost weight and—this was a surprise—his combat accuracy was down.

Poe laughed at that: "Oh, so you're telling me that if I'd been getting a good night's rest and eating a wholesome breakfast, that I would have shot down Phasma?" His voice had been thick with sarcasm, because he'd still engaged her and even wounded her, but:

" _Yes_ ," Dr. Kalonia said with absolute confidence, and Poe sulked. "You don’t get to remain The Best Pilot in the Resistance if you wear yourself down to A Mediocre Pilot in the Resistance."

After that they turned their discussion to Finn, and Poe hadn't really wanted to bring up their fight, and he certainly didn't want to use it as an excuse for why he was an idiot (it wasn't an excuse, after all, he'd been doing a pretty good job self-sabotaging before they'd ever fought), but it seemed Finn had already blabbed in their session, so Poe shared his frustrations.

"What are you trying to prove, Poe?" she had finally asked him, forgetting herself and using his first name.

And that had stumped him. Everything he did was classic inferiority complex impostor's syndrome bantha shit. What the hell did he have to feel inferior about? He had a job he loved and was good at, a boyfriend he loved, a girlfriend he loved, a droid and a boss and a starship he loved, he loved his dad and it certainly wasn't as though he didn't get enough hugs as a child or anything. Maker, he was as bad as Kylo Ren, Poe thought to himself, scrubbing a hand over his face.

"I think I'll let you think that one over," Dr. Kalonia said, sensing his agitation. Poe nodded and got up. "Commander," she added, and he stopped. "There doesn't have to be one reason. What's important is how we respond to those feelings of inadequ—"

Poe held up a hand. "Please don't say that word. I don't need erectile dysfunction imagery when I'm about to take my boyfriend to our own bed for the first time in two weeks."

Dr. Kalonia's face was unreadable, her voice sweet: "You shouldn't joke about that, Commander. One man in five..."

"Okay, I'm _leaving_ now!" Poe laughed. "Come on, Bee," he told the little droid.

As they made their way through medical (okay, these were better facilities than on D'Qar), BB-8 was lecturing him: [You know I could have told you that about your accuracy... _years_ ago...]

"Oh stars and skies, not you, too!" Poe threw up his hands (but he felt himself duly convicted) as he found Finn in his curtained off medical ‘room.’ "Hey, sweetheart," he said, kissing him, gentle with his still-healing ribs and arm. "Ready to get out of here?"

"Yes. Absolutely," Finn said after he'd given Poe a hug. "Meeting go alright?" he asked, because he'd half-expected him to be a little surly coming out of his meeting, not...laughing? He glanced past Poe at Dr. Kalonia as she came out of her office to see to her other patients, and she gave him a small, but genuine, smile. Finn was sure he looked confused, but at least no one was angry or upset. He refocused on Poe and smiled. "Lead the way," he told him, reaching for the crutch at the end of the bed. Kalonia still didn't want him walking on the leg that had been skewered for another week, but was willing to let him put some weight on it as long as he promised he wouldn't overdo it.

"Yeah, Dr. K. was in rare form today," Poe huffed, thinking again about her question, and then shaking his head. "How are you doing? Seem to be moving better. Ribs bothering you much?" He hummed as they wandered the newly assembled corridors, looking for the command quarters, and he slid close to Finn and took his hand. "Ah, here we are! Haven't been in yet, so it's probably a disaster," he explained, punching in the code, and gasping as the door slid open. "Shit! The baby philodendron!" he cried, darting in and dropping to his knees, hastily stuffing soil and plant back into its pot.

Finn spent the walk to their new room preparing himself not to be upset when he saw the new quarters, no matter how sparse they were. He'd just managed to convince himself that he didn't even care about the old room and the things he'd come to associate with being home when Poe stopped at a door and keyed in their code.

At first, unable to see past Poe, Finn thought there was something wrong with it when Poe yelped and dashed inside and knelt by an upended plant. Then Finn stood in the doorway, staring in utter shock. Their room was _here_ —and all their things, even if they were a bit scattered about. The clothes on the floor were more-or-less where they'd left them, the bed unmade as always. He wondered if he was somehow hallucinating... "Am I awake?" he asked Poe, whispering. Their _home_ was here. The first home he'd ever known as such, and it wasn't back on D'Qar being looted by the First Order, but _here_! He could have—was, in fact—crying out of relief and joy and shock. "But—how?" he asked, and stepped inside to pick up some of the clutter that had fallen off the holochess table.

"I—what—? Oh!" Poe said, leaving the philodendron on the floor to help Finn into a chair, as he looked a bit disoriented. "I didn't tell you?" he asked, kneeling in front of him, and then he laughed. "You're very much awake. And you are very much dating a commanding officer of the Resistance military, such as it is, and witnessing some good old-fashioned preferential treatment." He grinned widely and gestured around them. "They have—this is all one cubicle, see? So if we have to evacuate—if we know in enough time—they just load it into a transport ship and put it back...down..." Finn looked dazed, and Poe kissed him. "You think the General or Admiral Statura have to pack their own shit every time we move house? Only we lost the philodendron, poor thing. And—" he waved a hand. "All the pictures fell down. And we probably need to change the sheets...it’s kinda stuffy…" He got up and hung the picture of his parents back on the wall.

"I didn't think any of it got packed. I thought it was—you know, back on D'Qar. _Gone_ ," Finn explained. He looked around the room and shook his head, then grinned. "Now I feel kind of silly for thinking our home was gone," he said, a little embarrassed. No _wonder_ the others he'd seen hadn't seemed the least bit concerned about saving the more precious articles they owned.

"Well, I mean, we're lucky, of course. Most personnel only get the one trunk and whatever else they can carry." He stood tall with his hands on his hips, pretending to be proud since he was actually embarrassed of how privileged he was in this regard. "Guess you only date me for the officer perks, huh?" he teased, flashing him a grin before leaning down to kiss him.

"Oh no, you figured me out," Finn joked, and reached up to rest his hand on Poe's hip—not to instigate anything, but just to touch him.

"Anyway, all the _really_ important stuff's right here," Poe purred, touching Finn's cheek and holding his gaze.

Finn smiled at the way Poe was just watching him and sighed. His shoulders dropped, relaxing, and he moved the hand that had been on Poe's waist to brush an errant lock of hair off his forehead before it could fall into his eyes. "The only home I can't rebuild," he answered, and moved his hand to Poe's shoulder to pull him a little closer. He kissed him, soft and slow at first, and then deeper, though without changing the pace.

Poe dropped to his knees again, leaning in as he chased the kiss. "Finn," he whispered, arms winding around him to hug him again. They held each other, just kissing, for a long while, Poe eventually nudged Finn's knees apart so he could move as close as possible. "I'm sorry," he said, suddenly, "for not trusting you like I should have. I—I don't know why I was running myself stupid and not listening to you..." He was already on his knees, so this was as good a time as any for the full apology. "I don't know what I was trying to prove..." Poe tried a few more times to speak and gave an exasperated grunt. "Anyway, it won't happen again. You deserve better and damn it, you're going to get better. I can handle it if you—if you just _tell me_ not to do something, I won't do it. Simple as that," he said firmly, though he already worried he was talking too big.

"Poe—" Finn started, and then actually laughed. "You said that with a straight face," he added, and kissed him. "I love you, and it's because I love you that I say this—that is _never_ going to work." In fact, it was possible Poe would just find a way to do anything Finn told him not to do, and that wasn’t going to be good for their relationship, either. More importantly— "And...I don't really want to _tell_ you what to do or not do—except, you know, in bed, when I’m telling you to do things I know you want to do.” That earned him a small grin. “I just want you to listen when I think something is a bad idea because I'm concerned about you. And..." he paused and shrugged one shoulder. "And if you don't agree with me, I still need to trust your judgment, too." That was the crux of the situation, really. He hadn't actually trusted Poe's judgment, much the way Poe seemed to not trust his. It was a good thing to work on, for both of them.

Poe frowned, but he couldn't deny that that was something of a relief. He still felt stupid, but he nodded. "Yeah, yeah, okay," he said, and sighed, and took Finn's hand and kissed his palm as he thought of what he wanted to say next. "You asked...when we first started—when we first talked about dating, you asked about boundaries. If I have any. I said I didn't but I think maybe I do." He looked up at Finn, brow creasing. "It freaks me out when anyone tries to control me or tell me what I can or can't do," he blurted out. "Especially when it comes to flying. I should be better about it. I should get over it. I've been in the military practically my entire life, you'd think—but that's why I got so stupid and angry. It's not an excuse, just an explanation, I guess. So." He swallowed carefully. "That would be a boundary, maybe. In spite of what I tried to tell you ten seconds ago. Because I'm a moron."

Finn nodded. “Of course.”

Poe huffed, but it turned into a sigh. "What I can do in return is trust you, if you _ask_ me to...do or not do something. And I do trust you. Especially if I know you trust me, too." Just the thought of Finn trusting him to know his own limits made him feel...safer. More willing to consider that Finn might have more than a vague inkling of his limits, too. Poe gave Finn a small smile. "Is that okay? Maker, I'm like, so high-maintenance. How can you possibly want to deal with me? Also don't talk about grounding me, it's never funny, I won't laugh. I'm a massively huge manchild and I'll probably cry," he said, trying to joke, even though he was deadly serious.

"I don't want to make you cry," Finn said, earnest yet bemused, "So no talking about grounding, unless for some reason you bring it up. I trust you to know when you should ground yourself."

Poe let out a shaky sigh at that, and nodded, surprised at how much that actually helped. “Thanks,” he whispered, and then suddenly stiffened, remembering throwing Finn against a wall: “I—and, kriff, Finn, I shouldn’t have—I was rough with you, it could have turned ugly, I didn’t even know what I was—”

But Finn laughed again: “Ugly for _you_ , maybe, if you’d actually tried anything,” he said, but when Poe was still frowning, he turned serious.

“I know I couldn’t hurt you if I tried, but, I _know_ better, flat out,” Poe said, clenching his fists and unable to look up. “And I don’t want you to think that that’s how we do things here. It’s not behavior becoming an officer and certainly not an acceptable way to treat your fucking significant other!”

“Hey.” Finn touched Poe’s cheek. “I know you didn’t mean it, Poe. I think we’ve pretty well established we both did a lot of things we knew better than to do,” he said evenly.

"Tell me about it," Poe grumbled. "Me telling you to grow up was me being vindictive and awful. I said it because I knew it would hurt, not because it’s true, by any stretch of the imagination. I'll never say that again, I promise." He met and held Finn's gaze.

Finn nodded, and was quiet for a few moments, brushing his thumb back and forth over Poe's hand. "I _was_ upset by that—when you said that about me growing up. And not—not even because it implies I'm young, but I don't _know_ things like everyone else here. I can't even talk to you about how I feel, half the time, and I'm sorry."

"Finn, please. You don't have anything to be sorry for—"

"Yes, I do! Not letting me own my part in this fight is not treating me like an adult," Finn snapped.

Poe shut his mouth.

"If I had been acting like an _adult_ ," Finn continued, slowly and carefully, cheeks burning as he admitted this, "we could have had a healthy discussion about what was bothering me about how you'd been acting, which, for the record, _is_ still on you." He winked at that, though, no longer even remotely mad and able to joke about it, and Poe dared to curl his lip up in a self-deprecating grin. "Instead, I acted like a passive-aggressive _child_ , and—"

"Finn, you're not—"

"Let me finish, Poe Dameron, so help me. Let me be an adult and admit that I was—acting like a—a damned infant—" he giggled suddenly, barely able to keep a straight face as he tried to go on, and Poe snorted.

"Finn, you realize what you're saying, right?" 

Soon they were both laughing.

"Seriously, though," Finn tried again, sobering somewhat. "Feelings. I can talk about those," he insisted, sounding more like he was telling himself this than Poe. "I'm a grown man and it's on me to voice if something bothers me before it blows up into a major issue. It may have been your fault we had a problem in the first place, but it was my fault it turned into a _fight_. And…you don't deserve that." His inability to express his feelings was annoying at best and left him feeling embarrassed and stupid at worst, and it was half-happening to him _right now_ , but he forged on. "But I get really frustrated trying to put emotions into words. It's not that I _don't_ want to talk, I just _can't_. And then I either get defensive or clam up—or both, and we've seen how well that works out."

Poe nodded, and waited to make sure Finn was finished. "Finn. Talking about emotions is hard for _everyone_. You're not alone." He cracked a grin: "Good news is, I love talking about feelings." He brightened: "And I also like riddles, so you can just try to explain whatever it is you're feeling and I can try to guess!" Finn looked at him darkly, and Poe laughed. "Kidding. But seriously, and don't hate me, buddy, but the only way you get good at this is practice. Just like with anything else."

"But no one _else_ has to practice! All of you already know," Finn said, a little angry and a little miserable, and sounding like a petulant child even to his own ears. He waved the arm that had the cast on it dismissively. "I know, I have no other option." But it helped, sometimes, to just be _annoyed_. He looked back at Poe and sighed, then smiled wryly. "Maybe someday they'll invent something that lets you feel what someone else is feeling!"

"Haha, Jedi mind reading?" Poe said, not actually laughing. "Anyway, you're wrong. Everyone has to practice. I'm super shitty at my _own_ feelings, I just like I like hearing about others'. You would laugh to hear how often my meetings with Dr. K. just end up with me trying to pull out my own hair as I try to answer something simple like 'How are you feeling today?'" Poe shook his head.  "Anyway, give me some credit! I'm _good_ at reading people. It's...kind of like my Force power...if I had any. Sometimes I tap into the—the dark side of it, and I can know just how to hurt someone. I'm not proud of it." He grinned briefly. "Except when I'm backsassing Kylo Ren." But this wasn't about him, and he looked up at Finn longingly. "And I'm good at reading _you_. You wore a mask for a lot of your life, Finn, so let me tell you you're not exactly an expert at hiding what you're thinking or feeling. And I'm pretty much obsessed with you, so I think I've got you pretty well mapped out. Not just the things you're insecure about, Finn: I know when you're happy, when you're confused, when you think I'm being dashing or stupid, and I _know_ that you are a _good_ man. So you don't need to explain what you're feeling because I can usually tell." Poe flashed him a smug grin, daring Finn to challenge him.

Finn considered this, blushing slightly and feeling very naked. "I don't—I can hide it! How do you know I'm just not trying?" Finn asked, sputtering a little indignantly. He only realized after he'd said it that this sounded just slightly incriminating, and frowned. Then he realized that, too, was proving Poe's point, and tried to stop, but then he couldn't even tell _what_ his face was doing. Eventually he gave up and grumbled something about how it wasn't fair, when he couldn't read people, that they could read him.

"I guess you _can_ , but why would you want to?" Poe shrugged and leaned in for a kiss, chasing it when Finn turned petulantly away. "You chew on the right side of your lip when you're nervous, or, like uncomfortable," he said, smiling and pulling back. "And you bite the left side when you're turned on because you picked that up from me. You raise your eyebrows when you see something new, like you're surprised, but not quite. You smile big when something awesome just happened but you don't show your teeth quite so much as when you laugh at something funny." Poe rubbed the top of Finn's thighs, now embarrassed and looking away. "I know when you've woken up from a nightmare or flashback but you don't want to wake me or Rey up because you tap out the beat to the music BB-8 plays with your fingers until you go back to sleep. Or you—you sometimes need to feel my heartbeat, or pulse, or Rey's. I know when Rey wakes up, too, because her breathing changes and she needs to grab both of us. I can tell when you're lying because you get suddenly _too_ serious. I know you're in love with me because your eyebrows sort of come together when you stare at me too long, and I _know_ that's your in-love face because I see you look at Rey the same way. And—" he looked back up at him, grinning softly, "and your nostrils flare when you're about to cry—and you're about to cry right now, aren't you?" 

"No," Finn said, and rubbed his nose, "My nose just itches." Except he was totally about to cry. How much attention had Poe been paying to him when he'd not noticed, to recognize all of that? And why hadn't he been watching Poe enough to know his little quirks? He sniffed through a suddenly running nose. "Okay I lied. I was lying. You already knew that," he said. "But you're about to come up here and give me a hug and kiss me, so two can play at this game," he said with confidence, half commanding it in case he was wrong.

Poe beamed and leaned in for the kiss. "See. You got me pegged, too," he said, his kiss accidentally all teeth for a moment because he couldn't stop smiling, wrapping his arms around Finn and pressing into him like the stars kissed in those classic holovids where the music swells and the wind blows through an open window. "I love you," he gasped when they parted. "And I _trust_ you. I already trust you with my life, Finn, and that's the easy part. But I trust you with my feelings, too, and my happiness, and I trust you with my ugly baggage, too. As I know you trust me with yours." He blinked rapidly. "And now my eyes itch," he teased.

"Must be all the dust," Finn said with a slightly watery smile, and then laughed. "Look at us. Our first night back in our own room and we're crying on each other." He leaned back against the back of the chair, easing some of the pressure on his ribs, and reached for Poe to draw him closer. "I trust you—and Rey—more than anyone in my whole life." He winced slightly as he tried to get comfortable, but then covered it with a smile. "Even when I'm not acting like it." Even when I act like I don't trust you to make the right decisions, or with my own feelings, he didn't add, feeling that very much fell within the 'ugly baggage' Poe had mentioned.

"Hey, oh kriff your ribs, I'm sorry, easy," Poe said, helping Finn up gently. "You want to move to the bed?" Finn nodded and they hobbled the few steps to the bunk, and Poe laid Finn down with a gentleness that bordered on reverence. "And I trust you, even when I'm not acting like it," he told Finn, sliding in beside him and faking going for a kiss before he groaned and stretched: "Oh _gods_ it feels good to be in a real bed, doesn't it?" he said, eyeing Finn sidelong, to see if he would protest or beat him at his own game by playing along. Not that Finn was in any condition for anything strenuous (that had been the other awkwardly hilarious part of his conversation with Dr. Kalonia today), and even though Poe could think of a number of ways to get around this concern, all he really wanted to do was hold Finn and kiss him until they both fell asleep.

Finn could play this game too. He yawned, raised his good arm, and dropped it across Poe's shoulders before very blatantly tugging him closer. "I missed this," he said, referring to, among other things, the quiet moments he could spend just snuggling up next to Poe as they brushed sleepy, easy touches and kisses over each other's bodies.

"Ah, you're such a tease!" Poe lamented, even though he had started it, and he curled up against Finn's warmth, sneaking a hand up inside his shirt to play over the parts of his chest that weren't bruised ribs. "I missed this, too. I'm sorry I—" But he'd apologized enough, and he was ruining this good moment by bringing up all those nights they spent apart, and aside from that Finn was probably going to start getting annoyed. "Only thing we're missing is Rey," he said instead. "And, well, I'd rather you were injury-free." He lifted himself on an elbow. "They give you any good painkillers or you want something from the cabinet?" Poe glanced around the room, sitting up again. "It's a mess in here, I should really tidy—" but no, he was Doing It Again, and Finn was glaring, and he pressed himself immediately back to the mattress. "I was going to say, I should stay here in bed with my boyfriend so we both get some much-needed rest."

"Mmmmm, good choice," Finn said. He twisted to give Poe a kiss on the nose, and then made a frustrated sound as that—unsurprisingly—moved his ribs in a way they didn't want to go. "They're going to drive me crazy," he said tiredly, "And no, they did not give me any good painkillers."

"Ah, stop, stop!" Poe whined. "You're hurting _me_ when you do that!" he said, his brows knit together tightly. "Don't move, please. I'll get you something to help with the pain, and you'll let me help you sit up to take it, and then I'll stay in bed with you and I won't get up again from this bed again, promise," he said, kissing Finn as he slid out of bed.

Finn grumbled. "Now you're treating me like I'm a child."

Poe wheeled around and put a hand on his hip. "I'm _treating_ you like my injured and almost-died-on-me-a-week-ago boyfriend, there is a difference," he said firmly. "But if you really want me to stop bringing you pain meds and water and helping you get ready for bed because that's for babies, now, or something..."

Finn laughed. "Shut up," he said, throwing a pillow at Poe. "But, um—" and Finn frowned again (the face, Poe noticed, that meant he was trying to decide how to put a complicated feeling into words). "Poe? I don't want you sending BB-8 to babysit me, anymore, okay? They've got more important things to do than follow me around. Got it?"

[It's true] BB-8 agreed, unsolicited. 

Poe raised his hands in surrender, and though the gesture was teasing, his face was serious. "Got it. Trusting you to be okay on your own—unless you tell me you need something from me."

Finn nodded, and Poe smiled softly.

"One thing Bee _could_ do for us, though, is show you some of the new holovids they downloaded so you can choose one for us to watch?" Poe asked, and when Finn nodded and BB-8 burbled in agreement he retreated to the washroom, running the taps and flushing the toilet until the plumbing worked properly and returning with two pills and a cup of water. The water actually tasted better here than on D'Qar, which was nice. Better filters or something.

Poe paused at the door, leaning against the frame as he watched Finn interact with BB-8. He breathed a sigh of relief, feeling better about Finn, about himself, and about their future. Maybe his biggest crime in this whole thing was putting Finn on a kind of pedestal, to the extent that he couldn't conceive of Finn being responsible for any part of their fight—when of course he was—and that was kind of infantilizing, too. Finn deserved to be respected as an entire person, with struggles and faults (even if Poe was blind to half of them because of how in love he was).

In Poe's defense, it was pretty damn easy to think the man who saved you from certain death was perfect. But he felt safer, now. Perhaps recovering from their fight made their relationship feel invincible. Or maybe it was just good to know he wasn't the only screwed-up member of it. 

Finn's Binary was fluent now, and as he watched, Finn was just _so good_ with Poe's droid that it made his heart ache. He was struck by a thought, quite suddenly, that he wanted to have children with this man. Well, adopt, or whatever, but that wasn't important.

What was important was that Poe Dameron had decided that he wanted to marry Finn. All of a sudden, though it felt like he had somehow known it for a long time. Like, not hypothetically, someday, but actually, and soon.

That took planning, though. Finn deserved a proper proposal, and one that wasn't a surprise, so he'd have to drop a few hints— _Would you like to have kids, someday?—Ever thought of a last name for yourself? No? Want mine?—Tell me again what the First Order said about marriage?—No, no reason, just curious_ —and he'd have to plan where to do it, of course, which was going to be trickier since they left idyllic D'Qar behind. Also he needed a ring. Two rings. No reason why they both shouldn't wear them.

Poe sucked in a breath, blushing at his own secret thought, because Rey would be back soon: _three_ rings? Oh, his dad was going to flip…

[Are you ever coming back, Friend-Poe?] BB-8 honked at him, catching him staring. [Friend-Finn requires your attention. Arm-scratches, probably.]

Finn laughed. "Apparently even your droid knows my tells." 

Poe shook himself. "Sorry," he said, helping Finn to sit up and take the painkillers and then re-settle as they prepared to nap and cuddle and kiss and whatever else Finn wanted to do tonight. He hauled BB-8 up onto the bed and kissed Finn soundly. "Was just thinking."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! We hope you'll stay tuned to the series as Poe pops the question in the next installment! You can visit us on Tumblr at [Maeglinthebold](http://maeglinthebold.tumblr.com/) and [A-Singer-of-Songs](http://a-singer-of-songs.tumblr.com/)!


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